MAP OF THE WHITE NILE, laid down from the Diary of FERD. WERNE. by H. Mahlmann 1848.

Hillmandel & Walton Lithographers.

Richard Bentley New Burlington Street, 1849.

(Large-size)

EXPEDITION
TO DISCOVER THE SOURCES OF
THE WHITE NILE,
IN THE YEARS
1840, 1841.

BY FERDINAND WERNE.

From the German,
BY CHARLES WILLIAM O’REILLY.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.

LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty.

1849.

PREFACE.

The rich contents and originality of the work before us will escape no one who casts a glance at it, however hasty that may be. It presents the liveliest views of the Natural Productions and People of regions hitherto entirely unvisited. The surprising novelty of the phenomena is described by a writer of much experience, bold energy, and intense devotion to the land of the South. We welcome it, therefore, as a pleasing contribution to our literature of travel, often so insipid. The discoverer of the Source of the White Nile, under the vertical rays of the sun in Equatorial Inner Africa, will share the same fate as his illustrious predecessor, James Bruce, the discoverer of the Sources of the Blue Nile, if many of his statements should be doubted, criticised, and misunderstood.

We have, however, no pretensions to be defenders of them. Some ten years later, perhaps, their justification, with the exception of a few errors, may follow our Herodotean wanderer into a terra incognita. Such was the case with a Marco Polo, Christopher Columbus, James Bruce, and Mungo Park.

Two French accounts have preceded the present narrative of a German fellow-traveller, in one of the three vast expeditions by water, undertaken by Mohammed Ali in 1840 and the succeeding years, with unequal success, for the discovery of the Sources of the Bahr el Abiad. We welcomed the French accounts on their first appearance, notwithstanding their meagreness and doubtfulness, in consequence of their main results. At the same time we expressed our hope that we should be better informed of these events by their fellow-traveller, for we were already aware of the exertions of the author of the present narrative. Everything, therefore, introductory to this Work will be found in the undermentioned pamphlet, to which it is only necessary here to refer to avoid repetition in a preface:—

“A Glance at the Country of the Source of the Nile, by C. Ritter, with a Map, Berlin, 1844, and three Supplements—1st, by F. Werne, the Second Expedition to discover the Sources of the White Nile, from November 1840 to April 1841, pages 42-50. 2nd—On Carl Zimmermann’s annexed Chart, to shew the Upper Country of the Nile. 3d—Dr. Girard on the Nature of the Soil of Central Africa on both banks of the Upper Bahr el Abiad, to the foot of the Mountains of the Moon, pages 68-72., principally from the mountain specimens brought home by Mr. Werne.”

We have the pleasure of possessing, in the present more accurate statement, many new data and remarks on earlier accounts, though, doubtless, these will bring on a controversy, for the acrimony of which the Author has himself to blame. When, however, such sarcasm is directed in an instructive and legitimate manner, as that against D’Abbadie, in the convincing Appendix, (to which we must here draw attention, in order to understand the whole,) we cannot blame the Author, who has gained by toil and labour positive facts, for rendering them secure, as far as possible, against malicious presumptions and arrogant hypotheses. Science, moreover, is always the gainer by these discussions.

The annexed Map has been newly constructed, by Mr. H. Mahlmann, with his usual scrupulous accuracy, from the manuscript of the Journal, and the notes of the Traveller. Though, under the present circumstances, it leaves much here and there to be desired, yet by comparing it with that of Bimbashi D’Arnaud’s, executed and published at Paris in 1843, it makes a very useful addition to the Work. Still much instructive elucidation and enlargement of knowledge might be gained by a complete description and pictorial representation of the wonderful collection of Natural Productions, Works of Art, Weapons, Household Utensils, and other objects, hitherto the only one we possess. In the annexed engraving we give a specimen of these curiosities, collected by Mr. Werne’s care, on his journey to Bari, and afterwards incorporated by him, in addition to his Collection of Natural History, with the Royal Museum of this city, where they are to be viewed, to the number of one hundred and twenty-six different articles.

C. Ritter.

Berlin, July 27, 1848.

CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.

CHAPTER I.
| PAGE
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER | 1
CHAPTER II.

COMPOSITION OF THE EXPEDITION. — AHMED BASHA; HIS CHARACTER. — SCENE BETWEEN MOHAMMED ALI AND SHEIKH SULIMAN OF ROSSIÈRES. — SLAVE TRADE AND SLAVE HUNTS. — SULIMAN EFFENDI, THE SICILIAN POISONER. — DEATH OF MUSTAPHA BEY. — VAISSIÈRE AND THE EUROPEANS IN EGYPT. — PUCKLER MUSCAU. — AHMED BASHA’S WIFE. — DESCRIPTION OF KHARTÙM. — BLUE AND WHITE NILE. — DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.
29

CHAPTER III.

VILLAGE OF OMDURMAN. — MOHAMMED EL NIMR, THE BURNER OF ISMAIL, MOHAMMED ALI’S SON. — MEROE AND THE PYRAMIDS. — SENNAAR. — WANT OF DISCIPLINE ON BOARD THE VESSELS. — SCENERY OF THE RIVER. — TOMB OF MOHA-BEY. — DIFFERENT ARAB TRIBES. — HILLS OF AULI MANDERA AND BRAME. — SULIMAN KASHEF. — REMARKS ON HIS GOVERNMENT. — AQUATIC PLANTS. — THE SHILLUKS AND BARÀBRAS. — LITTLE FEAST OF BAIRAM. — CHARACTERS OF THIBAUT, THE FRENCH COLLECTOR, AND OF ARNAUD AND SABATIER, THE ENGINEERS. — HONEY. — MANDJERA OR DUCKS. — FEÏZULLA CAPITAN’S EPILEPTIC FITS. — WOODED ISLANDS. — THE HEDJAZI.
67

CHAPTER IV.

MONOTONOUS SCENERY. — CULTIVATION OF DATE-PALMS. — EL AES. — BOUNDARY OF THE TURKISH DOMINIONS. — REPUBLIC OF APES. — HUSSEIN AGU’S FAVOURITE MONKEY. — CRUELTY OF EMIR BEY. — ADVENTURE WITH A CROCODILE. — BELIEF OF THE TURKS IN THE TRANSMIGRATION OF SOULS. — LIEUT. ABD. ELLIAB, THE DEVOTEE. — THE TAILORING PROPENSITIES OF FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — A “FANTASIE.” — FEÏZULLA’S INTEMPERANCE. — GUINEA-FOWLS. — ABU SEID. — DESCRIPTION OF WATER PLANTS, AND GRAPES PECULIAR TO THE WHITE NILE. — THE AMBAK-TREE. — GEBL DINKU. — ABDURIECKMAN, CHIEF OF THE SHILLUKS, AND SULIMAN KASHEF’S BARBARITY. — HIPPOPOTAMIA, AND CURIOUS SUPERSTITION OF THE SAILORS. — THE DINKAS AND THE SHILLUKS. — THE LOTUS. — MOUNT DEFAFAUNGH. — TAMARIND TREES. — THE TAILOR-CAPTAIN, AND INSUBORDINATION OF HIS CREW. — FIRST APPEARANCE OF GNATS.
96

CHAPTER V.

A STORM. — TOKULS OR HUTS OF THE SHILLUKS. — THE TALLE, A SPECIES OF MIMOSA. — THE GEÏLID. — THE BAMIE. — UEKA. — WILD RICE. — OMMOS. — THE SHILLUKS A LARGER NATION THAN THE FRENCH! — IMMENSE POPULATION ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE ARM OF THE NILE. — THE HABAS OR FORESTS. — A TURKISH JEST! — LEECHES. — DISEMBARKATION ON THE LAND OF THE SHILLUKS. — DESCRIPTION OF THE TOKULS. — CONDUCT OF THE BEDOUINS TOWARDS THE PILGRIMS TO MECCA. — THE MURHAKA. — MANNER OF CATCHING GAZELLES. —SÜRTUKS OR CANOES OF THE SHILLUKS. — REFUSAL OF THE KING OF THIS NATION TO VISIT THE VESSELS. — TREATMENT OF HIS AMBASSADORS AT KHARTÙM. — THE BAOBÀB TREE. — DHELLÈB PALMS. — WINDINGS OF THE RIVER. — OSTRICHES. — HILLS OF ASHES OF THE DINKAS. — RIVER SOBÀB.
131

CHAPTER VI.

ANT-HILLS. — TRIBE OF THE NUÈHRS. — THE JENGÄHS. — KAWASS OR SERJEANT MÀRIAN FROM MOUNT HABILA. — DESCRIPTION OF HIM. — TOKULS OF THE JENGÄHS. — FIRST APPEARANCE OF GAZELLES. — THE RIVER N’JIN-N’JIN. — WORSHIP OF TREES. — THE GALLAS OR STEPPES. — BLACK COLOUR OF THE RIVER. — NEW SPECIES OF PLANTS. — THE BITTERN AND IBIS. — “BAUDA” OR GNATS: THEIR DREADFUL STING. — LIEUT. ABD-ELLIÀB’S CRUELTY TO HIS FEMALE SLAVE. — THE TOKRURI OR PILGRIM. — CURIOUS SUPERSTITION WITH REGARD TO THESE MEN. — MOUNTAIN CHAIN OF NUBA. — PAPYRUS ANTIQUUS OR GIGANTIC RUSH. — GAZELLE RIVER. — DEAD FISH. — DIFFERENT SPECIES OF SNAKES. — ARABIC SONGS AND FESTIVITY ON BOARD. — JENGÄHS SUPPOSED TO BE WORSHIPPERS OF THE MOON: THEIR MANNER OF TATOOING. — STRIFE BETWEEN THE SOLDIERS AND SAILORS. — ANTIPATHY OF THE FRENCH ENGINEERS TO EACH OTHER. — LOCUSTS. — TORMENT OF THE GNATS: THEIR VARIOUS SPECIES. — BARBARITY OF THE TURKS ON THE FORMER EXPEDITION. — MARVELLOUS STORIES OF THE ARABS. — HATRED OF THE NATIVES TO THE TURKS.
153

CHAPTER VII.

QUESTION OF THE NAVIGATION OF THE NILE. — KING OF THE SNAKES. — OFFERINGS TO HIM BY THE ARABS. — KURDISTAN. — MÀRIAN’S AUTHORITY OVER THE NEGROES. — THE TAILOR CAPTAIN AGAIN. — DHELLÈB-PALMS. — WANTON DESTRUCTION BY THE CREW. — ELEPHANTS: WHITE BIRDS ON THEIR BACKS. — POISON-TREES. — THE NATION OF THE KÈKS: CUSTOMS AND DESCRIPTION OF THEM. — FLESH OF CAMELS AND GIRAFFES. — MERISSA PREPARED FROM ABRÈ. — THIBAUT DISCOVERED TO BE AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. — RECOLLECTIONS OF GREECE. — WILD CUCUMBERS. — FEÏZULLA CAPITAN’S DRINKING PROPENSITIES.
186

CHAPTER VIII.

ARNAUD’S IGNORANCE AND SELIM CAPITAN’S CUNNING. — HATRED OF THE THREE FRENCHMEN TO EACH OTHER. — THE ENDERÀB TREE. — THE POISON TREE HARMLESS. — REMARKS ON THE LAKES IN CONNEXION WITH THE WHITE NILE. — THE WOOD OF THE AMBAK TREE. — FONDNESS OF THE ARABS FOR NICK-NAMES. — THE AUTHOR DEFENDED FROM GNATS BY A CAT. — INTERVIEW WITH A KÈK. — HUSSEÏN AGA’S DRINKING BOUTS WITH FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — DESCRIPTION OF A SUN-RISE. — VISIT OF THE KÈKS. — SULIMAN KASHEF AND THE LOOKING-GLASS.
221

CHAPTER IX.

TURTLE-DOVES. — DESERTION OF BLACK SOLDIERS AND PURSUIT OF THEM. — INTERVIEW WITH NATIVE WOMEN. — GIGANTIC STATURE OF THE KÈKS. — THEIR PASSION FOR GLASS BEADS. — FEÏZULLA CAPITAN’S QUARREL WITH A SUBALTERN OFFICER. — SYLVESTER’S EVE. — A “HAPPY NEW YEAR.” — VILLAGE OF BONN. — WANT OF SHADE IN THE FORESTS. — CURIOUS TATOOING AND CUSTOMS OF THE NATIVES. — A WOMAN’S VILLAGE. — MODESTY OF THE WOMEN. — MEAT BROTH. — REPORT OF HOSTILE INTENTIONS OF NEGROES. — FRENCH EXPEDITION TO EGYPT UNDER NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.
250

CHAPTER X.

SHEIKH DIM. — CLUBS OF THE KÈKS AND CAPS SIMILAR TO THOSE OF THE ANCIENT EGYPTIAN PRIESTS. — RAPACITY OF THE CREW. — TRIBUTARY LAKES. — HEIGHT OF THE SHORES. — THE TRIBE OF THE BUNDURIÀLS. — DUSHÒÏL, THE KÈK, ON BOARD SELIM CAPITAN’S VESSEL. — HIS SIMPLICITY. — TOBACCO PLANTATIONS. — THE GREAT SHEIKH OF THE BUNDURIÀLS. — FISHING IMPLEMENTS OF THIS TRIBE. — THEIR TOKULS, AND GIGANTIC SIZE OF THE MEN. — ANTELOPES OF THE ARIEL SPECIES. — APATHY OF THE CREW, AND INDIFFERENCE AT THE LOSS OF THEIR COMPANIONS. — PHILOSOPHY OF A NATIVE. — SINGULAR CONTRAST BETWEEN THE FEATURES OF THE SHEIKHS AND THE OTHER NEGROES. — NATION OF THE BOHRS. — THIBAUT’S BARTER. — REED-STRAW ON FIRE, AND DANGER TO THE VESSELS. — FATALISM OF THE TURKS. — GREETING OF THE NATIVES: THEIR SONG OF WELCOME.
285

CHAPTER XI.

NARROW ESCAPE FROM CROCODILES. — ILLNESS OF THE AUTHOR. — DESCRIPTION OF THE ELEPHANT-TREE. — CUSTOM OF MAKING BEDS ON ASHES VERY ANCIENT. — SULIMAN KASHEF SHOOTS A CROCODILE. — STRONG SMELL OF MUSK FROM THESE ANIMALS. — THE TRIBE OF THE ELLIÀBS. — WAR DANCES. — CHARGE AGAINST ARNAUD. — INJURY TO VESSELS BY HIPPOPOTAMI. — SULIMAN KASHEF’S CIRCASSIAN SLAVE. — CULTIVATED LAND. — THE FELATI. — APPEARANCE OF A MOUNTAIN. — TRIBE OF THE TSHISÈRRS. — STRATA OF THE SHORE. — RICINUS PLANTS. — FOUR LOWER INCISORS WANTING TO THE NATIVES ON THE SHORES OF THE WHITE NILE. — AGILITY AND STRENGTH OF THE NEGROES. — MORE MOUNTAINS APPEAR.
319

EXPEDITION
TO DISCOVER THE SOURCES
OF THE
WHITE NILE.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.

Discoveries and conquests, which so frequently go hand in hand, are of the greatest importance to the history of mankind. Like a combination of streams, they break through natural boundaries and the rocky dams of ages, and open a way for the incessant progress of civilization through new and untrodden paths. Yet glorious enterprises, costly equipments, and hazardous exploits, may conceal a swelling kernel of material interest beneath a husk of fine reasons, as if these constituted the primitive motive. Thus Mohammed Ali, the Viceroy of Egypt, has done very much for science, especially geography, without even thinking of it, whose comprehensive relations, with respect to the higher requirements of mankind, lie far beyond the limits of his ideas. Neither has he honoured with his study the hieroglyphics in the Biban el Moluk near Thebes, where the black Kushi bring golden rings as tribute to the Pharaohs. Yet he knows, and is so exceedingly fond of these rings (Okiën), which in Ethiopia even now serve instead of money, that, so far as the destroying arms of this much-famed satrap reach in Belled-Sudan, no more okiën are to be seen. Moreover, he is making exertions to follow and secure those that have retreated and eluded his grasp, which affords an excellent opportunity for extending our knowledge of the countries and people of East and Central Africa. He sacrificed his son Ismail, and, through the Defterdar, devastated and depopulated this beautiful country, merely to secure to himself the way to the gold regions; though he might have attained his object much better, had he sought to elevate the country in every possible way, and to re-establish mercantile confidence. For, from the earliest ages, a market has existed here, to which gold comes, first hand, in the leaf and grain form, by barter with the inhabitants of the interior, just as it has been separated from the sand of the torrents, and kept in quills or horns of the gazelle. In Sennaar or Kordofan it is found in rings of half and whole okiën and in gold wire, but it is frequently changed, by weighing and melting it down, into ingots or bars, which Mohammed Ali just as little contemns.

But “Turks:”—in this one word is included all and every answer to questions on the condition of the people. We shrug up our shoulders, and say “Turks.” Whoever has lived some time amongst them must, from the clearest conviction, confess the perfect incapacity of these Turks for advancing and civilizing the countries under their government, and their indifference to the interests, nay, even their premeditated murder of the nations infested by them. The complete depravity of the Asiatic world, even in the lifeless and powerless form of a mass dissolved in corrupt fermentation, always effervesces strongly into cruelty with the wide-spread barbarians of the East, and displays itself in bestial vices, to the disgrace of mankind and scorn of the sacred bond of nations. A truly savage nature is theirs, which, from Montenegro to the east and south, repels all western civilization, and would seek a kind of national fame by ridiculous reactions against it, as a hated and even despised foreign state of manners and life, in order to cover their nakedness and infamy, and to cloak their empty ostentation. But the Turk of Egypt is the outcast of his countryman in Turkey itself. Egypt, for example, is so decried in Albania, on account of its corruption, that the Arnaut returning from thence seldom obtains a wife, even if he have his girdle full of red gold.

The smallest portion of the white Mohammedan population, called Turks without distinction in Egypt and Ethiopia, belongs to the Albanian nation, which, on the whole, provides the Egyptian army with its best if not also with its cleverest men. This army is a mixture of heterogeneous materials, having only their religion in common, and the same slavish treatment and prospect of booty for their bond of union. If the Turk has no remains left of his ancient aptitude for conquests but the thirst of power which has accompanied his victories; a haughty contempt of the rest of the world; the belief, spread throughout the East, that European princes hold their crowns from the Sultan by feudal tenure; and a boundless presumption, which of itself would seem sufficient to destroy his dominion for ever, yet the Sultan still remains the Padishah of God’s ancient grace to his people.

This arises from the prevailing conglomeration of ideas about absolute power, and a slavery denying the rights of subjects to form themselves into an union of freemen. Thus Mohammed Ali is looked upon as an intruder, an usurper, and a tyrant, not only by the people, for he is feared, hated, and cursed even by the Turks; a circumstance which makes his position so much the more difficult, and his administration more oppressive and destructive. The whole aim of his conquests, which he has pursued with such obstinacy, is immediate enrichment at any price; a dangerous and destructive principle which animates all his wild hordes and mercenaries, since it exercises the most pernicious influence over what has been gained with a devastating hand, and in addition prepares unutterable misery which will annihilate itself at last, for the Turks, shewing no pity here, have none to expect. Thus, in my presence in Taka, thirty-two Turkish horsemen with their servants were slain at a feast given them by the Haddendas, not to mention other examples, which shew the feeling prevalent amongst the people of Ethiopia against their conquerors. Yet, as we before said, evil spirits must often serve the good against their will; so, also, Mohammed Ali must be of use to our scientific researches, although an involuntary instrument in the hands of civilisation.

The treasures which Mohammed Ali had collected with Turkish cunning and cruelty combined, threatened to be engulfed. The army and the fleet—Syria, Arabia, and Albania—in one place war, in the other military levies and plots against the Porte—disbursements in all kinds of ventures with their costly cheats and samples—manufactories and other establishments—travellers and agents to spread his fame, and give him a good European reputation—unprecedented embezzlements of the public funds, &c., and, lastly, Constantinople, that insatiable gulf and grave of the Eastern world—all these had completely exhausted his finances. There seemed but little more to be gained by him, excepting the temples and antiquities, the sale of which is not beyond the reach of possibility. Mohammed Ali was in this embarrassment, when he determined to realise the plan of immediately laying claim to the treasures of Fàzogl and Kordofàn. His Highness obtained, by paying dearly for their services, certain officers from the Austrian mining works, whose contract, however, (dated Jan. 15th, 1836, in Trieste,) was so cunningly drawn up, that it only agreed to an examination of the mountainous part of Syria, Tarsus, and Adana. In Egypt itself, however, a fresh negotiation took place, and the offers of the Viceroy, who, in his imagination, already perceived an Ethiopian gold fleet sailing down the Nile, were so tempting, that Russegger, the director of this mining expedition, accepted the invitation to go with a part of the company to Kordofàn and Fàzogl, in order to open those veins of gold from which the old Venetian ducats had been extracted.

Russegger ate, drank, and lorded it like a bey, the pay of which rank was granted to him, with a liberal board suitable to it. He made use of this profitable opportunity to ramble about Belled-Sudàn, and to write an expensive journal, which Mohammed Ali (though it must have been with a heavy heart, no treasure having been raised) honoured, like a worthy Mecænas, with his especial approbation, so that the curious world has procured a cheap work, and the author the acknowledgment due to him in his native country.

The issue, however, of the exploration for the precious metals had answered so little the expectations of the Basha, that he could not resolve to pay 30,000 Spanish dollars to the experienced Russegger to put the mine into operation in Fàzogl, as Boreani, the founder of his great guns, whom the Basha, from pure mistrust, had added as an assistant to the before-mentioned expeditition, asked only 15,000 crown thalers (about 3,094l. English) as his eventual reward. Russegger had already, as being a German, many opponents in the Italian spirits of Alexandria and Káhira, and though Boreani had far more limited acquirements, yet he knew how to anticipate the fame of discoveries, by loud boasting, (having gone through a much more extensive routine of experiments and investigations,) and knew also how to make the best of them with Mohammed Ali. Nevertheless, the Basha at last trusted neither, and determined, as soon as possible, to examine the matter himself. Thus the Viceroy, in the autumn of 1838, undertook a journey of discovery into the country of the Blacks. There were also other circumstances which made it appear desirable to the crafty old man to avoid, for some time, the diplomatists in Alexandria, and certain pressing questions of theirs. Together with this bold journey to Fàzogl, Mohammed Ali, in the summer of 1838, had decided upon a navigation of the White branch of the Nile, with the same golden object. It was on Oct. 15th of this year, that I, who had been for some time an anchorite in the deserts near Tura, and had just returned from a hunt on the ruins of Memphis, saw, from the left bank of the Nile, Abu Dagn (father of the beard), as Mohammed Ali was designated by the Fellahs standing near me, and when closer, pointed out to me as Effendina (his Excellency) steam past in his yacht, hastening away to those regions I had just so wished to visit. I had already been informed in Alexandria, over a glass of wine, by the Frigate-Capitan, Ahmed, (Baumgärtner, from Switzerland,) of the secret plan of the expedition to the White Stream (Bah’r el abiàd). I had used every exertion, and strained every nerve, to be allowed to accompany the voyage of discovery, but my endeavours were in vain, as my silence could not be confided in, being a Nazrani,—the expression of the authority most nearly concerned, as Ahmed informed me, with a shrug of the shoulders.

The scientific researches were entrusted to this Ahmed-Capitan, who had before accompanied Russegger to Belled-Sudàn, and had just returned from thence. He set out in August, and, on his arrival in Sennaar, made, in the same year, an experimental journey up the White Stream, as far as the lower island of the Shilluks. He died, however, at Khartum, in the May of the following year—before I arrived there with my younger brother—deserted by the few Franks residing there; and even at the very moment of his death, according to the usual custom of the country, they were dividing his property among themselves without scruple, and handing over the gleanings to the Divan to be sold. But the enterprise to examine the Bah’r el abiàd was delayed only a short time by the death of Baumgärtner, because the other Frigate-Capitan, Selim, was exceedingly anxious to gain alone the Turkish laurels. But the prospect of joining ourselves to the expedition seemed lost to us brothers; for we had kept this constantly in our eye, and considered it as the extent of our wishes in Africa, since through Baumgärtner’s influence we might certainly hope for a procul a fulmine.

It was on November the 16th, 1839, that I saw in Khartùm the crimson streamers of the flotilla of discovery waving up the White Stream. My heart bled at not being able to accompany it on this occasion. I was so ill and weak that I was obliged to lean against the door-post, when my brother, who was equally unwell with myself, rose up slowly from the divan, and standing behind me, made me laugh again by shaking a large medicine-bottle, with a long label, and commanding me, as my physician, to retire with a Hell el Alle! Riff! Jalla! (“Spread sails! North! Forward!”); for we were looking with eager desire towards our northern forests. This first expedition got as far as the country of the Elliabs (6° 35″ N. lat.) on January the 27th, 1840. The statements and reports giving 3° 35″ N. lat. as the point reached, rest either on false astronomical calculations, or the adventurers wished to acquire the fame of having proceeded 3° further, not supposing that any other expedition would follow to check them.

Mohammed Ali, being dissatisfied with the result of this expedition, appointed in the very same year a second voyage of discovery. Various motives have been alleged for this glorious resolution. He either wished, with respect to various ulterior views, to have a country inspected, which had pleased him so well in his journey to Fàzogl, because, among other advantages, it contains the radius of the circle of an immeasurable kingdom, whose motto is “Noli me tangere;” or he thought of opening another commercial road in the interior of Africa. Perhaps his restless and avaricious heart hoped to find a real golden fleece, with the acquisition of which—like Nero, who also ordered the sources of the Nile to be sought for—he might connect the reputation of a lover of science. Nevertheless, he has, like a true Renard the Fox, scented out his Malepartus,[1] even if he have not gone as a penitent pilgrim to Turkish Rome. There the report was spread, and believed, that the old Basha would return to Sennaar. Even Ahmed Basha, the Governor-General of the land of Sudàn, and the greatest Verres among the Bashas of Mohammed Ali, feared such an unwelcome visit in Sennaar, after the taking of St. Jean d’Acre; and the merchants of the place wished it, because money, by that means, would flow into the country.

This Ahmed Basha had also other reasons, which I will detail afterwards, for fearing such a change of residence. Nevertheless, whatever may have been the secret thoughts of Mohammed Ali, a second expedition was resolved upon in 1840, and this time I was fortunate enough to take a part in it myself. For seven months I had been present in the Taka country, in a district previously untrodden by Europeans, at a campaign opened by Ahmed Basha, against the free people of that district, who are called, as being such, Asi. That nomen is one of the words of the diplomatic language of the day, not sufficiently expressive, because it means rebels as well as free men, and reminds us besides of Asia and the godlike Asi of the North. For a long time we had our camp surrounded with palisadoes of thick palm-trees, under the wonderful granite rocks of Kaffela-el-Lus, rising up above us like a dome, to the height of more than 3.000 feet, near the village of Kadmir, in the country of the Hallengas, when orders arrived from Káhira for the second expedition. The Basha permitted me at last to accompany this highly interesting enterprise; but my brother, who was his physician in ordinary, could not share in this favour, on account of the great mortality in the camp. For three days we considered and wavered, before we resolved upon the journey, and then we mutually promised not to be always forward in exposing ourselves to danger: for separation is no trifling matter in these countries, where, from the frequent diseases, and other misfortunes, no compassion is to be expected; where neither friendship nor love, and still less gratitude, is known.

Suliman Kashef, a bold Circassian, who had commanded the first expedition, and had only been a short time with us in the camp, was nominated, according to Ahmed Basha’s statement, by Mohammed Ali himself, as the Commandant, though he is said, in the former expedition, to have been pushed forward by the mistrustful Ahmed, in order to take care of his interests, and to keep a watch on Selim-Capitan, who was sent from Alexandria. To deceive, by a demonstration, the enemy, the great nation of the Haddendas, (whose cause must be honoured as a sacred and just one, and whose great Sheikh, Mohammed Din, had been taken prisoner in a treacherous manner, and was detained in the camp,) and to open at least the road, Ahmed Basha marched with us, about two miles and a quarter, as far as the village of Huàthi, where we had to cross a large mountainous torrent. The spies sent out by Mohammed Ehle, the Sheikh of the Hallengas, came back the second time, and declared that the forest on the other side was free from Arabs (Arab plural Urbàn), as they judged by the footsteps, which all turned to the north. In this manner Suliman Kashef and the Shaïgiën leader, Melek Hammed, and myself, left the camp, which was threatened far and wide by more than 100,000 hostile lances. Having good guides preceding us, we pushed through Gohr-el-Gash, (Gohr, pass of the floods, or wild path of tropical cataracts,) the dry and hitherto sandy bed of which was full of water, 4,000 feet deep, arising from the periodical rains, pouring down from the lofty chain of mountains of Makada (Habesh), that lay before us, and crossed, without any accident, a chain of sand-banks, which Baraká, the overflowing arm of the Gohr, forms below Huàthi. This Baraká springs in the north-eastern alpine chain of Habesh, and, as trustworthy persons, amongst others, the Kadhi of the Hallengas, have assured us, flows towards the west, through the mountainous countries of Kostàn and Mària, then separates into two branches, of which one runs by Suakin eastwards into the Red Sea, and the other takes its course through Beni-Amer westward, and divides itself again at Sadderath, a day’s journey to the east of Kaffela, and then flows into the Gash. On the contrary, this great Gohr comes from the north-west mountains of Habesh, and pursues its principal direction through the countries, or mountainous regions of Hamassein, Dembalass, Belga, and Basa, to the group of rocks of Kaffela-el-Lus, where it runs to the north, and is said to lose itself, or else it forms the Mogren, which appears to me also to be a Gohr. These Gohrs afford sufficient water during the hot season, when their beds seem quite dry, to the various tribes, with whom we partly came in contact, and who may be the remains of some ruined nations that have fled to the mountains. When they require water for themselves and their cattle, they make in the bed of the Gohr a hole, not very deep, in the sand, till they come to a layer of blue clay, and they draw the water, that springs forth immediately, so far down that the animals cannot reach it, into peculiar round cisterns, which they place close to the hole, and which form flat basins of half a foot or a foot deep, and six to ten feet in diameter. These basins are kneaded with clay to make them solid and compact, and then the cattle drink out of them. Such watering-places are indispensable near the springs, which, notwithstanding the basin-shaped depression of this whole country, are of a great depth, on account of the alluvial soil. In these situations we find not only birds which are scarcely seen anywhere except in the neighbourhood of water, but also the elephant, rhinoceros, giraffe, hyæna, and the lion with his family. They not only leave water behind in cisterns for this great and dreaded lord of beasts, but they also draw it afterwards, in order to detain him, that they may fetch him tender fresh calves-flesh from their houses, which is here his favourite food, as I convinced myself in Beshum, in the country of the Haddendas. It is a fable that the elephant dislikes the camel: I saw them both at Hauàthi drinking in the middle of the day, close to one another, out of two different holes. The elephant is said to be angry with the people if he find the cistern, from which he is accustomed to drink, choked up with earth by the wind or animals, and to attack the nearest village (as was the case some time since in Hauàthi), to overthrow everything he meets, to clear out the water-vessels, and not even to disdain the corn he may happen to find.

Ahmed Basha could not spare any troops for our protection, on account of his being pressed so closely by the enemy. There were about sixty of us, including the mounted halberdiers of Suliman Kashef, who carried arms, besides unarmed servants, male and female slaves. The excellent light cavalry of the Shaïgiës, under the command of the bold Melek Mahmud, accompanied us only a short distance. These Shaïgiës are not at all of Arabian origin; they call themselves “Warriors of old of the soil,” and are still held memorable, even as knights, through their really daring and adventurous plundering excursions in these parts.

We worked our way over heavy and untrodden roads, whilst the Shaïgiës wound right and left through the thicket, like snakes, and covered our flanks. We passed through the Haba (forest; in this place, swampy forest), which it is well known is so dreaded by the Turks, and fortunately reached the high swollen Atbara near Gos Rajeb after three days’ and three nights’ hard riding, having been obliged to leave behind many animals, especially horses, which had fallen from exhaustion on the bad roads, and from the want of sufficient fodder. I perceived that the Turks congratulated themselves on leaving behind them their Silva Hercynia, in which Mohammed Din with his Haddendas, though only armed with lances, had twice defeated Kurdshid Basha.

In vain we looked about here for the ships, which, in case of an unfortunate issue of the campaign, were ordered from Berber to communicate with the shore; but there was not a plank to be seen, as the requisite northern winds had not set in to enable them to sail against the strong current of Atbara. No sooner had the haughty Sheikh Hadàb remarked this than he, who had strongly asserted that the ships would be here, looked about very uneasily, and slipped away from the side of Suliman Kashef into a bush, giving me a significant look as he passed, and had nearly disappeared when Suliman Kashef took up his long gun. The Basha had but lately, from his own absolute power, advanced him to be the great Sheikh of Sogilàb, and by that means had gained partisans in the family. He had accompanied us as a guide from the commencement of our journey to this place in a very dirty dress, and had all along assured us that we should have a strong encampment of his Kabyles at our side, although he had only provided some bread, but no fodder for the beasts, which were completely disabled and obliged to live merely on the trees, and with which we were obliged to cross a rapid stream. As he had been created a Sheikh by the Basha (Sheikh betal Divan), he was exceedingly hated by the two other Kabyles of Sogilàb; and I, who knew him well, watched him, lest he should play us any treacherous trick. He was soon afterwards shot with a pistol, in the middle of his people, in the village of Sogilàb, by one of our Magrabis (Mogrebins), who had been sent for the purpose, without his death being avenged or the Magrab being punished by the Basha.

On a signal-gun being repeated, a small boat appeared, similar in size and construction to a moderate fishing-cauf. We saw men plunge from the left shore into the flood, and this cauf became animated with human beings from Gos Rajeb: soon afterwards the bold swimmers landed, having been carried here and there by the current. A strong arm grasped, at my feet, the root of the tree affording me shade: “Oh, uahet sheïtàn keweiss!” (“Oho, a fine ghost!”) said my huntsman Sale, whilst he held my pipe under my nose, and gave a horse-laugh. A woman’s breast, just disclosed from under her ringlets, and confiding in heaven, appeared first on the top of the waters, and then dived back again. Shaking off my lassitude, I threw myself upon the ground to offer an assisting hand to the poor creature. A nut-brown Amazon, of the clearest complexion, a true picture of most luxuriant youthful strength and vigour, stood naked up to her dripping rahat (girdle of strips of leather) upon the end of my carpet. Throwing off from her head the Ferda (a long cotton cloth with ornamental borders, worn by all these people of both sexes, and exactly the same as those found in the Egyptian tombs), she smoothed it, slung it round her hips over the right shoulder and the head, soundly rated Sale, and then ran away laughing because I understood her Aggem, (heathen language, or rather what is not Arabic,) uttered by her deep hoarse voice, as little as she my Arabic cur, quomodo, quando. Recovering from this unexpected fright, I followed her, and learned that these Bishari had come from the Kabyles of Wood Naga, on the Atbara, for the purpose of conveying across our cattle. The wildly beautiful damsel had grown up from a child in this employment, which was her greatest pleasure. Stronger and bolder than any of her nearest relations, she had lost her voice by lying in the damp in her night-quarters on the shore, expecting for some time the retreat of the army, said to be nearly annihilated, for the sake of the profit (four piastres or girsh, about one shilling,) on every camel and horse.

The old boat, which had been concealed out of fear of the rapacious Haddendas, and had become leaky, was drained of the water, after it became certain that there were no other vessels near. This tribe of the Haddendas is always at war with all the neighbouring races. The Haddendas, whose territory here borders on the right shore of the Atbara, above the equally marauding Anafidabs, swim over in a small daring body, take very coolly the vessels from the left side which are to transport the people waiting on the right shore to pillage and murder, and then hasten back with the booty so much the more securely.

Suliman Kashef invited me to cross over immediately with him, but I could not venture to entrust my collections and camels to the thoughtless and timid servants; I therefore remained behind, and by his directions ordered durra, the corn of this country, for the exhausted animals, and bread, or rather flour, and meat as supper for myself and my men. We had already, at Gohr el Gash, beaten the camels to make them go into the water, and yet there were others sent before to set them a good example; but here it was far worse, for there was a depth of from forty to fifty feet to swim in.

The beautifully hunchbacked camels from Beni-Amer were abused as being hashim (stupid, silly), because they feared the water. Water-skins were inflated and fastened to the breasts of these animals, which were driven before us in a drove, with as much trouble as those that bore burdens and were tired. The guides, holding the long halters or ropes, plunged into the Atbara before them, and curses, cries, pushes, and the unmerciful Nabùt (a stick four feet long and an inch thick) assisted in sending the camels after them. Several of the animals, and also three or four horses, from Taka, which had no opportunity of learning to swim, for the beasts at the time of the inundation are driven into the Gallas, or elevated parts, were drowned, without their loss being mourned, except by the owners. On the march to Taka, we had here in the month of March nearly ridden through, dryfooted, on pebbly ground, where we now, in September, found the Atbara a powerful mountain stream. A motley mixture were we, of about 20,000 men, white and black cavalry (Turks, Magrabis, and Shaïgiës), dromedaries, and pack-camels, and more than 4,000 asses for the infantry, which, when they heard the numerous hyænas or lions prowling about their confined quarters, struck up a horrible concert. Two field-pieces, moreover, alternately drawn by mules and camels trained for the purpose, chests containing 3,000 axes for cutting through the forests, and a quantity of powder upon the camels, which, though piled up very equally between numerous fires, “Alla Kerim,” did not trouble us in the least. Yet I must not here speak of that campaign, and narrate the scenes and recollections that obtrude themselves on my mind, but I intend to publish them as they are set down in the journal I had with me on that occasion. Fodder and provisions arrived as I had ordered; that portion of the train which still remained on this side commended my advice, and determined, as darkness was coming on, to pass the night on the right shore. After I had discovered a clear place quite close, we left the bush and lay down there, to be secure, and to protect ourselves from being struck with a lance to the ground before we could even fire a shot. In a short time several little fires blazed, and there was cooking, roasting, and baking of pancakes and bread. I slept, in the meantime, behind the barricade of my chests, in order to keep watch during the night with the Circassians and Turks. Notwithstanding we were all very tired, I was fully persuaded that those Muslims would watch, as they had brought with them as slaves some pretty brown girls, whom they had purchased in the camp of Kassela, out of the booty of Mount Basa. The following day we crossed over to the other side. My Hamàl, or camel-servant, Hammed, took his great favourite camel himself by the rope and swam before it; but he soon returned back to me disconsolate, for his murkeb (ship), as he called it, caught by the strong current, had broken the cord, which was made of the bark of a tree, just as he had found a favourable resting-place upon a sand-bank close by. Nevertheless, he trusted every thing to the size and sagacity of his beast, and immediately disappeared from my side. On the following evening I saw him again in Gos Rajeb, but without murkeb. I voluntarily belonged to the last party that crossed,—two old Turks, a Kurd, and myself with my servants. On the moment of pushing off, some Arabs sprang on my chests, but the tall stout Kurd, whom Suliman Kashef had sent over to me as a Charon that might be entirely depended upon, struck two of them into the water at the same time with his oar as if with a flyflap, by which the miserable skiff was nearly upset. At the head of this boat sat the Kurd in great state, in shirt and breeches; on the luggage was enthroned Sale from Mahass, his ferda thrown loose over his shoulders, enjoying himself on merissa (a kind of beer). At my feet squatted the Turks upon the wet planks, in full dress, with heavy pistols in their girdles; behind them, on the brim of the obtuse stern, I had my place, dressed in a light gauze shirt, so that if the wind came on and threatened to drown the others, I might not, in case of necessity, be looked upon and seized as a raft. Certainly this Kurd, who was very much relied on for his skill on the water, had assured me, on his head, that I might, in case of an accident, ride upon him, as upon a river buffalo (gamùss el Bah’r—hippopotamus); but I preferred to depend on myself, and the more so, because the Atbara is not broader than the Rhine at Bonn. The Turks said their prayers, shook their heads involuntarily at every stroke of the oar, to which they calmly resigned themselves as their directing fate; for this vibrating motion of the turbans, which are set generally on decayed vertebral columns, always takes place, especially in steam-vessels. My corpulent hippopotamus, the Kurd, laughed and made fun at them whilst moving round the sand-banks and along the steep broken shore, without their answering him a single word.

Gos Rajeb means the Hill of Rajeb, from a Sheikh or saint, who first settled here. Though only appearing to our eyes a village, yet it is esteemed in this country as an important commercial city, the inhabitants of which are partly merchants from the Nile, and partly Nomads of the family of the Shukuriës, Bisharis, and others. The latter have renounced the rights of their race (gens, genus), and left their peculiar alliance (Kabyle, from Kab’l); being, like other wild animals who have been caught, dressed and also protected by the halo of their founder. But their Sheikh asserts that the old stock of the inhabitants is an indigenous people of the soil from the earliest times (min aslu).

I lay there, towards evening, upon an angareb (a convenient bedstead, made of thongs of camel-skin twisted cross or check wise), and looked back towards the two rocky hills of Herrèrem, on the other side of the river, where last night might have proved a bad one to us. These rocks with their magnificent ruins had deceived us brothers before, in the same manner as they did the learned Burckhardt, for the here commonly called “Kenisse betal Kuf’r” (Church of Kafirs or Unbelievers) composes chief of the fore part, so that we climbed up with much labour. Moreover, the City of the Nazrani (Christians), said (according to the statement of the Sheikh who accompanied me at this time, by command of the Basha, from Gos Rajeb,) to have been larger than Masr (Káhira), might have been very extensive, as I convinced myself by the tombs, and especially the foundation-walls of cities, and burnt masses on the north-east of Herrèrem; so that the word Kenisse, which is here only applied to a Christian monument, is not without significance in the mouth of the people. The market, as we see at the time of the greatest height of the water, points also directly to this uninhabited spot, as an ancient emporium between the tribes of the inner countries and the Red Sea. On our present arrival at the Atbara, I had remarked, about an hour’s walk to the south of this rock, some three hundred paces from the right bank, not only tombs and tiles, but also a tolerably large though low shelf of rocks, of an oblong form, the sides of which shewed niches and cavities seemingly made by the hands of men. I had just tied my obstinate dromedary to a tree to graze, and had turned my back to him, when he broke loose and started after the team, which had trotted before; whereupon, the completely exhausted Archæologist no longer surveyed his little Acropolis without pillars and temples, but ran after him, and forgot everything.

Suliman Kashef, reclining also on an angareb, overhung with a magnificent Persian carpet, presided like an incipient Basha, over a divan placed at his feet, of mats made from palm-leaves, on which there sat some inhabitants of Gos, and the neighbouring Sheikhs. A silver drinking-cup passed from his hand to mine, and again to his, whilst the Sheikhs were looking as if interrogating one another, and my Circassian neighbour became more and more talkative. We drank wine which a merchant of my acquaintance had brought with other provisions thus far, though he did not dare to press forward to the camp. “Dauer!” (medicine), said the Kashef, with averted countenance, and his face of the colour of japan, when a fellow, attempting to be witty, shewed a desire to drink with him. In the very same moment, he exclaimed “Shuff el Marassin” (Look at the pimp! or bad fellow.) The Haddendas announced their tardy arrival at the Atbara, by setting fire to some hundred tokuls (plural tàkela,—straw-huts formed like a cross with pointed roofs), which Ahmed Basha had ordered to be erected for the cavalry.

The further narration of the journey to Khartum (to which place we arrived in a westerly direction across the country of ancient Meroë, and through the wide extended, treeless, but excellent pasture-land of Butàna and over Halfaia,) I withhold for the present for the description of my later expedition to the much spoken of, but hitherto only visited by me, Mandera, Nasùb, Kheli, &c., in the south-eastern part of Meroë. In Halfaia, which may be called a city from the castles of earth or clay (Kasr, called by the Baràbras Hosh a castle) of poor petty kings (Moluk, sing. Melek or Mek), who are robbed by the Turks, and extremely badly, or not at all pensioned, Suliman Kashef left us in order to cross over to the neighbouring Kárreri to see his family. So also did Melek Hammed, who was generally reckoned the bravest among the so-called Shaïgiës. He was the son of Wu-Mahmùd, the last king or toparch of Dongola, who was murdered by the Memlukes (Mamelik). We were great cronies, and I was sorry for him when the Basha sent him away from the camp; because, by his unfortunate attempt to connect himself and the men under his command with the well-known Nim’r, he had given grounds for being dreaded the most of all the Shaïgiës. It is incredible how extensive the knowledge of this robber-king was with respect to the details of the topography of the whole country,: these are, as it were, family secrets, which are only disclosed, as a particular favour, over the goblet.

The sight of the Nile had already rejoiced my heart at Halfaia, but this was still more the case at Hubba, opposite Khartùm, where I became accurately acquainted with the border of the blue river. I learnt to value its extraordinary height so much the more, because it promised to be exceedingly favourable to our voyage of discovery to the level of the White Stream. We fired off our muskets, and let the camels lie down, when our shots were answered from the windows of the divan, or the house of the Basha. The Chasnadar (treasurer and steward of the Basha) had recognized me with a telescope, and had sent me immediately a comfortable vessel belonging to the great man. Every one hurried to Hubba to receive intelligence from the seat of war; and it was plain to be seen that the people would rather have heard of Ahmed Basha’s being with the devil than coming to Khartùm.

The east wind soon brought us to the other side. I, for my part, slipped away under the narrow trellised windows of the Harim, where I heard women’s voices calling “Hakim Bashi” “Hakim Bashi,” to the lower part of the great earthern palace, where they pulled me in through the window—so that I had not to make a great circuit—on account of the water which had overflowed. If I was not exactly among old friends, yet I was again among acquaintances who, at least, appeared to be pleased at seeing me, and who, with one voice, asked after the Hakim Bashi Yussuf, my brother, who was very much missed in Khartùm, and whom they were accustomed to see always with me. But there sat again Suliman Kashef behind the wine-flask of the Basha, in the jolliest humour, laughing and boasting what he had done in the meantime, and yet that he had arrived before me. A profuse breakfast was served, at which also Selim-Capitan was present, who was forced to drink some wine. The great guns were fetched, and, being placed at the windows, thundered out the announcement that it was a Turkish rejoicing. In order also to deceive the people, orders were given to fire the cannons, which was done without delay, we being looked upon as messengers of victory. Abdalla Effendi, the Wakil or deputy of the governor, came in at this alarum, greeted us, and wished us joy of the victory at Taka; but, as a worthy Moslem, he soon withdrew his potent nose, that he might escape for a time the scandal of drinking wine. At last there appeared on the scene another godly person, of the purest breed, whose heart burned to hear tidings of the Effendi—whom may the Prophet protect! (Ahmed Basha also bears, like all great dignitaries, the title of Effendina, in Turkish Effendim or excellency, and the great Basha, Mohammed Ali, is then for distinction called Effendina Kebir.) This was the great Kadi and Bishop of Belled-Sudan, who was the only one before whom the Basha, who was just of as pure blood, rose from the divan, and permitted to sit on his right hand close to his ear. The great man, as the master, having once taken, remained in his seat, which looked towards the principal door of the hall, and allowed him to place his legs under him conveniently. Turkish etiquette is carried to a great extent, and requires a kind of study.

We two slightly saluted each other by bending forward the right shoulder, because the Basha, shortly before the march to Taka, had called me and my brother his right and left eye, which saying he was obliged to repeat here, in order to excuse his friendship towards Kafirs. Conscious of his dignity, the high-priest sat down upon the place of honour in the corner of the reception-room, at the right hand as you enter. In the great audience-hall of the Basha, this elevated seat of honour is over the divàn, covered with a red or blue velvet cloth with gold or silver embroidery, and deeply fringed, with low pillows set round it; but there are days when scarcely a Mohammed Ali, or the Sultan himself, is allowed to sit upon this, or any of the seats in the public divàn. The word Divàn signifies not only the broad sofa running round the wall, or the sitting of a ministerial council, but every sitting on business transactions and conversation in council, as well as the hall and even the building in which this takes place, and also the reception-room in private houses. The servants in attendance had been dismissed, but the Kadhi, who being a Magarb, knew wine, and had himself in our house praised the Spanish as the best. He had, moreover, not disdained a cordial made of the same by my brother, which he took as a stomachic medicine, but pretended now not to know anything of the new Turkish labour in the vineyard of the Lord in conspectu omnium, and only gazed upon the Chasnadàr with his cunning eyes. The latter, a Circassian, who had grown up in the service of Ahmed, went into a room close by, and brought the poor man a golden or gilded kupa with a cover; whereupon the grand inquisitor sipped his refreshing draught with much goût, carefully covered again the vessel and placed it close by him at the window. The Chasnadàr, who, close to me, was arranging himself in his place, said, in his excitement, much louder than was necessary, “el Spitzbub kebir,” and clapped his hands for the servants. The Kadhi Kebir had received this name at the suggestion of the Basha, when the latter, just as the Kadhi left him, asked us how a misaur is called by the Nemzas; and my brother immediately answered Spitzbub (rogue), which those close around the Basha received with real ecstasy. However, Misaur means properly a talkative fellow,—ergo, a liar and knave;—Faki, or Fakir misaur, denotes a hypocrite or lying priest, the number of whom here is legion in proportion to the population, by whom the Faki (plural Fokra) are not generally held in esteem. The Kadhi did not concern himself about this title of honour, but, with the utmost tranquillity, drank his champagne out of the ciborium, in pious draughts.

Nevertheless every thing was soon prepared for the departure of the expedition. The north and north-east winds, although not constant, as is usually the case at the beginning of November, and which generally commence here after the rainy season, had invited us for a long time to take advantage of the high water, that threatened to engulf Khartùm at the end of September from both sides of the river. Nothing was wanting except the arrival of the two French engineers, who squatted two-and-forty days in Korusko, because Arnaud would not pay temporarily, out of his own pocket, for the hire of some camels, which they required over the number allowed to them in the Firman or teskerè, to convey their baggage through the desert.

Sabatier, the younger of the Frenchmen, confessed to us, without disguise, that he, for his part, could not have paid for the camels, as he had already borrowed money from his colleague, Arnaud, before they reached Korusko; and he accused the latter of having unjustifiably delayed his journey, for the purpose of putting off the expedition till the following year, and to pocket the pay of a bimbaschi (major) during the interval, in spite of their beards. This is quite consistent with the character drawn of him by his own countrymen and the Franks. Eternal regret for the lost forty-two days! Without this delay, our voyage might have had quite a different result.

1 General form of the Tokuls in Bellet-Sudàn.

2 Tokuls of the Shilluks.

3 Tokuls of the Dinkas.

4 Tokuls of the Nuèhrs.

5 Summer-huts of the Kèks (pastoral dwellings of reeds).

6 Sleeping stall.

7 Tokuls of the Keks, also partly of the Bòhrs.

8 Tokuls of the Elliàbs.

9 Tokuls in the kingdom of Bàri (of the Bàris, Chiers, and Lièns).

CHAPTER II.

COMPOSITION OF THE EXPEDITION. — AHMED BASHA; HIS CHARACTER. — SCENE BETWEEN MOHAMMED ALI AND SHEIKH SULIMAN OF ROSSÈRES. — SLAVE TRADE AND SLAVE HUNTS. — SULIMAN EFFENDI, THE SICILIAN POISONER. — DEATH OF MUSTAPHA BEY. — VAISSIÈRE AND THE EUROPEANS IN EGYPT. — PUCKLER MUSCAU. — AHMED BASHA’S WIFE. — DESCRIPTION OF KHARTÙM. — BLUE AND WHITE NILE. — DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.

Khartùm, 23 Nov. 1840. The engineers have long since arrived, and at last, in spite of all the assumption and threats of Arnaud, whose intention of wilfully delaying the expedition could not be denied, and the motive of which is sufficiently shewn by Sabatier’s explanation, the Turks themselves determined to set out to-day. They were impelled to this activity by Ahmed Basha’s having given the strictest orders to make all despatch, “so that another expedition chargeable solely to the treasury of this place might not be necessary, as was perhaps the intention of the Franks.”

The equipment consists of four dahabiës from Káhira (vessels with two masts and cabins, about one hundred feet long, and twelve to fifteen broad), each with two cannon; three dahabiës from Khartùm (one of which has also two cannon); then two kaiàss (ships of burden with one mast), and a sándal (skiff) for communication: the crews are composed of two hundred and fifty soldiers (negroes, Egyptians, and Syrians), and one hundred and twenty sailors and mariners from Alexandria, Nubia, and the land of Sudan. Suliman Kashef, although without rank in the army, commands the troops by the absolute will of the Basha, as he had done before in a Chasua at Taka. Selim-Capitan from Crete has the direction of the ships and properly of the whole expedition;[2] the second captain is Feïzulla Effendi from Constantinople. The other officers are two Kurds, a Russian, an Albanian, and a Persian; the Europeans are Arnaud and Sabatier as engineers, Thibaut as collector, and I as an independent passenger at my own expense. Arnaud has yielded also to circumstances, notwithstanding his parole d’honneur that he would not go with us, unless his salary for ten or twelve months were paid beforehand. The ships are furnished with ten months’ provisions, and six months’ pay has been advanced to preserve in some measure from perishing of hunger the families of the soldiers left behind, which from the low price of female slaves were numerous. The officers and the other persons holding appointments have received the Taïm belonging to them in money (the different nations according to their grade), owing to the want of rice, wheat, lupins, lentils, onions, butter and oil, meat and bread, so that they might make what purchases they pleased, or stow it in their kammer (money-pouch) according to the manner of oriental misers, and let the neighbouring stomach feed on common soldier’s fare, and console itself with the prospect of good days to come. An indemnification has been given in tobacco and onions, even to the common people, for the articles of the taïm, deficient in the victualling magazine, which could not well be realized until they arrived at Belled-Sudàn.

Ahmed Basha takes very good care of his soldiers, according to Turkish notions, and pays them regularly, because his very existence, which is menaced on every side, and the realization of his ambitious plans, depend upon their fidelity.

Regiments of black slaves, being the born enemies of the Arabs, are said to support him more resolutely than all his other troops; and, as he affirms, in case of necessity, they feed on grass, and have performed miracles of bravery in his presence, in Mora (the Morea) and in the Hejaz. On this account, the idea struck him in Taka of making up an amount of 5,000 slaves, and allotting this duty pro rata among the superior Sheïkhs and officers. On this occasion, ten slaves were imposed even on Selim-Capitan, which he was obliged to furnish, although he was not in Ahmed Basha’s service.

I first gained the dangerous confidence of this man in its full extent by the following means:—He found himself here entirely alone, as if in banishment; and when we were conversing about the people and the country, with its abundant resources which were not taken advantage of, and how Kurdshid Basha had conducted affairs here, and dragged everything to the devouring Masr, and left nothing remaining to him, he wished to know my opinion. I pointed out to him repeatedly, and without reserve, the independence of Egypt, and the plundering system carried on by the government of that country and—my conviction being that he should follow the example of the Basha—I sought to instigate him to render himself independent at the head of this oppressed and discontented people, and to call himself Sultan of Nigritia. It was clear to me that this was not the first time since our acquaintance that he had brooded over the idea, which he opposed with seemingly plausible, but long-considered scruples. His sleepless nights, during which old Deli Mustapha was obliged to make coffee for him four or five times, were now explained; but I did not at that time know that he was mortally hated there, where he believed he was beloved, and that in spite of his fine speeches, he was called the executioner of the Land of Sudàn. I might therefore awaken in the country, from the great aversion of the grandees of the place to him, the desire for a declaration of independence, but never for Ahmed himself. I will bring forward some examples from the conduct of this execrable man, to shew how the Turks make their countries happy.

Ahmed Basha was brought as a Memluke (white slave) from Circassia to Egypt, and sold to Mustapha Bey, sister’s son of Mohammed Ali’s first wife. He became the barber of the Bey, and afterwards, when his own beard grew, was appointed an officer in the army. He accompanied the campaigns in the Morea, Hejàz and Syria. He brought intelligence of the victory from St. Jean d’Acre with incredible celerity to Egypt, and is said to have been attacked with hemorrhage, as he was delivering the despatches to Mohammed Ali. He afterwards became war-minister, but was removed in six months from this important post, not on account of any incapacity, but from his self-willed disposition, inveterate obstinacy, and excessive spirit of opposition to all the grandees, and even to the viceroy himself, who might have been pleased on the whole with his energetic government. His iron arm threatened even to bend the Franks in the Egyptian service under Turkish despotism, and he had already brought the consuls into a good train, when one of them declared that the Turks had no code of laws, that the Koran could not be considered as such, and that the employés being Europeans could not be subjected to arbitrary power. For a time he remained without an appointment in Káhira, till he was sent with the 8th regiment to Belled-Sudan. For a year he governed in common with Kurdshid Basha, during which time he carried his intrigues so far, that the Governor, who was generally beloved, was recalled, and sent as Commandant to Adana in Syria, whilst the former received his post as Governor-General with increased power. Here he preserves, indeed, his own due respect and that of his people, in the hope of being made the future Sultan of the natives; yet, by his measures, he has not only trifled away the love of those men who are so easily led by their chiefs, but also completely cut off his return to Egypt, where, in the meantime, a book of his crimes has been opened.

He is a man of fifty years of age, though in appearance he seems scarcely forty; large and strongly built, with regular, handsome and expressive features, generally wearing a serious look, though he laughs a good deal. Whilst he is laughing, which is at his command at any time, we may often observe in his handsome countenance traces of agitation, betraying other thoughts than those inspired by the gaiety of the moment. His physiognomy becomes still more disfigured by his outbursts of wrath, which are not rare, when his true character is more rapidly developed in the working of his features than by all the chiselling and carving of the Gorgon’s head. His blue eyes stare and sparkle in his deadly pale countenance, and his inmost soul reflects itself in its real light, at this moment, as if in a mirror—it is the face of a tiger. Every one, seeing him for the first time, finds him a handsome man, but with something inexpressibly gloomy in his look, and in the melancholy features shaded by a dark beard. Ahmed Basha is a true economist in every thing, and boasts of his parsimony, (which, however, unfortunately degenerates into avarice,) saying, it is extremely necessary for him;—that he requires a good deal of money for present occasions, and will want more for the future;—and that Mohammed Ali has only become great through his gold;—every means, therefore, is justifiable by which he can acquire wealth. His table is sparingly served; he does not touch the sweet favourite dishes of the Turks, as being fit for women and not for men; he hates the Turks and calls them asses. Therefore he is always complaining that he stands alone, that everything presses upon him, which is the truth, because every one fears him and dares not speak. For his whole large establishment, with the exception of the Harim, one sheep is killed daily; whereas, on the contrary, Kurdshid had twelve or fourteen killed; and what was not consumed was divided amongst the poor starving people—a custom more worthy of a civil and military Governor of all Belled-Sudàn; especially as the Turks and wealthy Arabs—the latter, however, seldom, partly from fear of the former—feed the poor abundantly. Besides money was obliged to be sent very often from Egypt to Belled-Sudàn for the support of the troops; moreover, all the gold which was drawn from Fàzogle and Kordofàn, and coined in Kahira, was paid; for the preceding Governor complained continually of his empty chest. Ahmed Basha knew how to provide himself with gold, since he would never lose sight of his own interest. I heard from him in Taka of the bombarding and surrender of St. Jean d’Acre, which intelligence was kept secret. He feared for his position; and his plan of making himself independent received a severe blow, since Ibrahim Basha might suddenly march with his disposable army, and attempt a diversion on this side.

The just Governor sent to his dear sovereign 4,000 purses, the surplus of the treasury; and to shew the good old man what his Ahmed could do in the country, 1500 gold okien as a present. Besides this, he had had considerable expenses, had paid one-half of the soldiers more than Kurdshid Basha, had purchased thousands of camels and asses for the Chasua, for the purpose of transport, &c. One would conclude from this, that under this Basha, a complete reform of the system of government, and a flourishing condition of the land, had rendered these supplies of money and gold possible, but the surplus must be sought for in other causes than in the prosperous state of the country.

If the direct taxes be very irregularly paid through the conduct of the Kashefs (plur. Koshàf), Ahmed Basha has a number of other means by which to squeeze gold out of the people. Inheritances, where the testator is set aside, and, if necessary, some crime fixed on him; despotic dictation of tributes in money or gold; farming monopolies; selling fruits from the Shona, or the farms of the Basha; net-proceeds of the slave-hunts, &c.

In selling the fruits and farming the monopolies, the price is generally raised only in appearance by accomplices, and then in a very courteous manner the affair is hinted first to one and then to the other, who, in gratitude for the gracious punishment, raise their hands to their mouth and head, well knowing that even the latter belongs to the Basha, who commonly presides over such forced broker’s business.

It is not a very rare thing for Sheikhs who cannot raise the quantum of gold so arbitrarily imposed, to breathe out their souls under the Nabút. A favourite plan of his, pursuing the same aim, and having an apparent legal ground in itself, is the arrangement of his iron will according to the investigations to be directed towards powerful Kashefs, who do not deliver to him the half of their plunder, or towards honest officials, whom he hates, and whose places he has already beforehand sold to others, when he is certain of the share of the precious gain, which is made on collecting the Tulba. These profitable investigations are especially directed against officers who have the management of the accounts. A fresh revision of their accounts, which perhaps were delivered twelve to fifteen years ago, was entered upon for the second time, and, as he partly made it alone, or by his creatures appointed and assigned for that purpose, or when he thought it advisable, he ordered a bastinadoing for life or death, it has never happened that the people selected for payment were found guiltless.

Enormous sums have been squeezed out in this barbarous manner, and hundreds of men plunged into misery and extreme poverty; for Ahmed was not contented with falsifying the accounts of years long past, and having them liquidated.—No; but he punished them also for their falsely alleged embezzlements. Not one of these unfortunate creatures had the least thing left to him, except a miserable dress—everything belonging to them was sold—house, garden, slaves, clothes, kitchen utensils, in short, to repeat the word, everything—even the most necessary carpets and coverings for repose. The proceeds flowed into the treasury of the Divan.

It is true, that nearly all the Turkish officials are cheats and extortioners, only seeking to enrich themselves in every possible way, and to defraud the State, as even the best conduct affords no security for the duration of their appointments; but let justice be done to them, and do not, because the Basha gives the order, find the culprits guilty. Generally, the sum pretended to have been embezzled, was twice or four times as large as the whole property of the official. In this case, everything was taken that there was to take, and if the man were wanted, he remained in his service, but received for his pay scarcely as much as would provide him sparingly with durra; the remaining part, being deducted on account of his debt, flowed into the treasury.

In other instances the accomplices were ordered to replace the deficient amount. Among these were reckoned those who perhaps formerly were his superior officers, or his colleagues, and fellow-collectors; and this judgment always followed, when Copts were his accomplices. In the whole Egyptian kingdom the Copts (Kopt, or Oept, as they do not pronounce the K to our ear,) are condemned to be the Mallems (scribes). The Basha cherishes a cordial hatred of these Nazrani, partly because he detests their cringing servility and hypocrisy, which are carried to perfection, and looks upon them, on this account, with the same contempt as he does on the Greeks and Jews. Many of them are hanged, merely to spread terror.

Not long ago the following incident occurred: a Coptic Mallem was convicted in the manner stated above, of having purloined 1000 thalers[3] or pillar dollars at different times. He received 1000 blows, and all his things were sold, the produce of which covered the sum due, leaving a few hundred dollars over. The unfortunate fellow, after this fearful punishment, was thrown, more dead than alive, into chains, and they left him to his fate, without sending him a surgeon to afford him the least alleviation, by attending to his severe wounds. The Basha went on a journey; his wakil, Fàragh Effendi, an Abyssinian, who had been formerly a slave to the Spanish Colonel, Seguerra, in Alexandria, took pity on him, and sent for the surgeon, Sulimon Effendi (De Pasquali, a native of Palermo). He passed three months in prison in this frightful condition, when Fàragh Effendi thought he might solicit the Basha to pardon the Copt. The answer of Ahmed Basha was to this effect: “The Nazrani must be hanged, to serve as an example.”

Everyone at Khartùm was astonished, and the more so, because no one doubted his innocence. A gibbet was quickly erected at the market-place, and on the following morning the unfortunate creature was hanging,—as Faragh Effendi told me the story,—with a placard, written in large letters, on his back, and his feet scarcely half a foot from the ground. All the Copts, notwithstanding the calamity, were exceedingly rejoiced that he had not professed Islamism before his death, but had died stedfastly as a Nazrani. The Turks and Arabs are just as strenuous in their exertions to make proselytes as the expensive European missionaries, without immediately descending in thunder with their Prophet, as with a Deus ex machiná, from high Olympus. The cruelty of this Basha is said to have gone so far in Dongola that he wanted to force the son of a Copt to witness the execution of the sentence of death on his innocent father; but, luckily, the father died the night before.

In Khartùm, the young Sheikh Effendi (mallem, or Turkish scribe) received an order to revise the account of the Nasir of the linen Shunah. He, being yet a novice in these affairs, and not knowing that the word of the Basha “to investigate” must be always connected with “guilty,” goes to him, and says that it is quite correct; but the latter quickly sends the good youth back again to make another investigation. Sheikh Effendi returns, and says, that the “man is innocent:” the Basha calls him eshek (ass), sends him a very large and long piece of cotton-stuff as the standard measure, and commands him to make good the account, or else he would indemnify himself out of the Sheikh’s own property. Sheikh Effendi was therefore forced to take this great Top Homàss as the measure, when of course an enormous deficit appeared; for, amongst the goods sent in by several tribes of the Arabs, are included woollen stuffs made in the country for the dress of soldiers, for sails, tents, &c., and there is mostly a difference of one to two ells (drà, arm’s-length) between these pieces. This was now extended back to all the years in which the fellow had been Nasir, and the man was entirely ruined.

Except the punishment of beating to death, which causes as little sensation here as in Russia, public executions are not so frequent in Khartùm itself, where his presence alone creates terror; but the secret ones are performed without the cord and the sword. The following may serve as a proof of the condition of this grievously afflicted country:—When Mohammed Ali was travelling over Sennaar, the old Sheikh Suliman of Rossères, the most esteemed and influential man of Gesira (island, Sennaar) was forced to pay his respects to him in the city of Rossères. He came with a retinue of his Hammeghs, dressed simply in a black ferda; and, having stepped into the tent of the great Basha, he greeted him, and seated himself, without being invited, on the divàn close to him. The viceroy, beside himself with anger at this freedom, did not speak a word to him; but, after a short time, through his dragoman Abdin Bey, bade him depart. The old Basha told our Ahmed Basha, when Sheikh Suliman should again appear, to stand before him, in order to instil somewhat more respect into this old obstinate fellow. Suliman was summoned, and Ahmed entered into a conversation with him intentionally, standing before the viceroy, to prevent him from sitting down before the latter had assigned him the proper place by motioning with his hand to do so. The crafty Suliman, perceiving the Turkish finesse, and provoked at such treatment, which he did not deserve, drew himself up erect, and addressed Mohammed Ali thus in a serious, calm tone of voice, without waiting for the first word from the latter, conformably to Turkish etiquette:—

“Thou wishest to reduce me, here, in the presence of my people, to the grade of thy servant (Gadàm), but thou wilt be disappointed. Thou dost not know my power. Art thou aware that it only needs a word from me to excite the whole island to revolt, and to destroy thee and thy trifling military escort? Reflect that thou art in my kingdom, in my power, and not I in thine, Yet I will not be base; say, in a few words, why I have been summoned here, and what I shall do.” Mohammed Ali, enraged to frenzy at hearing a black talk so to him, but perceiving only too well the truth of what he said, reflecting on Suliman’s power and importance, and his own small army, gave way in this critical juncture, and ordered Abdin Bey (although he understands Arabic) to explain to him that the manner in which he had behaved was not proper; that he intended to invest him with the mantle of honour, and that he must kiss his hand as a token of subjection. Sheikh Suliman listened to this, laughing at the same time, but returned thanks for the honour of the investiture, and stooped to kiss his hand, which, however, he did not do, as the old Basha, enraged, kept both of them behind him; whereupon Suliman, without further ceremony, silently went away, and never appeared again, although he was summoned several times.

Mohammed Ali was indignant at the heads or Sheikhs of the mountains of Fàzogl not having paid their respects to him, as they had been apparently subdued by Ahmed Basha, in his expedition against Mount Tabi, Aba Regrehk, Singue, to Beni-Shangull, (twelve days’ journey behind Fàzogl, called by the Turks Fèsog’l), or rather had entered into a friendly alliance. And he attributed their non-appearance to Sheikh Suliman, whose dominion extends from Aba Nande, below Rossères, to Fàzogl, and who, although of a small and weak frame, for he is above eighty years old, (some say more than a hundred), has not lost by his subjection the fame of his bravery in former times, which is spread through the land, and of which wonders are related. On the contrary, he is reckoned a real prince of peace among these considerable chiefs, and has preserved tranquillity in the country in behalf of the Turks, entirely for the sake of preventing bloodshed. He went into the villages of his people, who honour him as a father and tutelar genius, and merely said, “The Turks again want Tulba; I know not whence to take it.” They brought it spontaneously, each according to his means, and even more than he wanted, which surplus he then distributed among the poor. One must know the avaricious character of these people properly to appreciate such generosity.

This frank and open speech on the 24th Dec. 1838, was sufficient to shew the old Basha how civilization, even in Ethiopia, begins to assert its claims, and urges resistance against Turkish barbarism; for wherever the soil is abundant, there personal freedom, the love of which these people have preserved pure in their hearts, has a right to demand a generous maintenance; but they have not even this, for, in contempt of the country and the people, every thing belongs to the great man, or his hangmen. He sent presents, therefore, and issued written proclamations, to the absolute rulers of Kamomil—where the richest veins of gold have been found—of Fazangùr, Duhb, and even to the Galla-chiefs, in which he says that he is not come to disturb their tranquillity,—that he, the Lord of armies and cannons, promises peace, &c. Even Abu Sarrott, the terror of all the mountains behind Fàzogl, received sabres and Turkish dresses from Mohammed Ali, and, fourteen days afterwards, the receiver of these presents plundered all the magazines, and carried away the cows and camels. This Abu Sarrott, before whom every one trembles, was formerly a slave of the Sultan of Mount Hummos, east of Fàzogl, had rendered himself independent, and having no settled abode, makes himself a home everywhere.

Mohammed Ali led four battalions of infantry, 400 Mogrebin cavalry under their leader Ladham, and 600 horsemen armed with lances, swords, and bucklers, from Sennaar, under the Sheikhs Defalla and Edris Wood Adlàn, with two field-pieces, to Fàzogl, where he made a sacrifice to humanity, by releasing 400 slaves. He had already in Khartùm revived the old edict issued from Alexandria and Káhira for the abolition of the slave-trade, in order to throw dust in the eyes of Europeans; but this order was one of those which, though publicly given, contained secretly a counter order. This practice goes so far, that these fine orders which are issued from Kahira, are entrusted to a kawass or courier, who on such occasions is a confidential lictor of the great Basha, and who quietly whispers into the ear of Ahmed Basha how he is to understand the despatches. So much for the suppression of the slave-trade, or rather of the Chasua (slave-hunt), as the former is practised publicly throughout all Egypt, even in the houses of the Consuls. So much for the not setting foot upon Abyssinia, where however Emir Bey undertook an expedition from Fàzogl to Atish, towards its boundaries, marching forward with the incredible caution usual in the Chasua, and seized Christian churches, and massacred every soul. So likewise in Taka, where slave-hunts took place on all sides; and from whence we should very certainly have gone to Habes, if the campaign had turned out well. Such was the case also in Kordofàn, where, on the intelligence that Mohammed Ali had himself put into effect at Fàzogl the orders he had given in Khartum, on account of the delay that took place, the slaves found unfit to be recruits were set at liberty. At the same time the well instructed Ahmed Basha dared to issue an order to Mustapha Bey to prepare a Chasua for 6,000 slaves, by which the loss of the 400 in Fazogl and of the few who had been emancipated in Kordofàn was sufficiently covered. Ahmed Basha managed afterwards to gain the confidence of the old Sheikh Suliman, probably, by praising his independent behaviour towards Mohammed Ali. In short, Sheikh Suliman, who had no medical assistant in Rossères, allowed himself to be persuaded by Ahmed Basha to make his nephew, Edris Kantòr (also Kamptor) the ruling Sheikh, conformably to Mohammed Ali’s wishes; to stand by his (Ahmed’s) side in Khartùm as his counsellor, and to take into consideration the welfare of the country. The renegade Suliman Effendi (with whom my brother was once there) was to have him under his care; but the Sheikh would not take any medicine, because he feared a physician whose fame had even extended from Arabia. This Sicilian had poisoned thirty-three soldiers there in order to ruin two Frenchmen, the physician and the apothecary, whom he detested. Ahmed Basha has need of such persons even in this land. Suliman suddenly died because he was too tenacious of life and wanted to return to Rossères, and was immediately buried according to the custom of this country, just as I was on the point of visiting him. “Deve morire, non c’è misericordia,” said Suliman Effendi, laughing, when opposing my brother with respect to the nature of his illness; and he was right. The brother of Sheikh Suliman, Nasr Wud Ahmed, came six months after to this capital; the strong, robust man was despatched in fourteen days in the same Turkish manner. Another brother received for some trifling matter 1,000 blows with the kurbash (a scourge, or whip, cut from the skin of the hippopotamus), far worse than the Nabùt, and reckoned to be equivalent to death: this man endured the punishment not only manfully without uttering a sound, but sprang up, and exclaimed, “Ana achu el bennaght!” (literally, “I am a brother of the maiden!” it means, however, a man who defends his hearth—generally, a hearty, brave fellow). Such examples of hardihood are not rare here, and depend partly on the race from which they spring. By the intrigues and the constant chicaneries of Ahmed Basha, the family of Suliman has been reduced to the lowest point. Woe to the Turks, therefore, when the time for revenge comes! The people belonging to the race of the Hammeghs still continue formidable, and remain always devotedly attached to the family.

These great Lords of the Isles, such as Edris Wud Adlàn, and Edris Kantòr, nephew of old Suliman, possess villages wherein 3000 or 4000 slaves live at their ease, with their wives and children, who are faithful and require only a hint from their protector. These Sheikhs, who are the issue of the marriages between the Funghs and Hammeghs, have besides a body-guard which they have furnished for themselves, being their own or perhaps not their own children. Thus Kantòr has more than 100 wives, Edris somewhat less, none of whom must be barren, if they do not wish to be displaced by others.

The old policy, which unfortunately still holds good, of chiefs being at variance with one another, bears its fruit also here. Kantòr as Sheikh of the Divàn, fears the lawful heirs, the children of Sheikh Suliman and Nasr, and has already murdered seven of them, without being called to account for it. Two sons, however, fled to the Sheikh Wud Abrish, on the confines of Makàda.

There died besides, in confinement, whilst I was in the country, the great Sheikh Mohammed-Din, a martyr for his Haddendas;—also Sheikh Hademer, highly esteemed in Mahass, who some years before had prophesied from his old books, that the Inglés (English) would free them from the Turks; wherefore, as soon as the intelligence was received of the taking of St. Jean d’Acre, he was seized in order to be, like Mohammed-Din, for ever set aside.

A man of consideration, on whom the Basha had forced the post of Muder of Dongola, for a considerable sum of money, died the day before he was about to set out for Dongola. My brother said to Suliman Effendi, that the unfortunate man was poisoned. “Pare cosi ma ben pagato la sua morte da Muder,” answered the renegade, and then abused the avaricious Basha, because, instead of paying his debts, he had required him to reduce them himself.

What, however, made a great noise and sensation in Egypt, was the death of Farat-Bey, in Wollet Mèdine, and especially the sudden decease of the brave Mustaphà Bey, in Khartùm, the only Turk who was really beloved in the whole country, and who was therefore an enemy of the Basha. He came from Kordofan to Fàzogl, during the time of the extreme heat, where Ahmed Basha hoped he would perish from the insufferable climate, as he said himself jocosely. He was not well, and was exhausted by the journey; he became worse without Suliman Effendi summoning to a consultation the three Italian physicians who happened to be present, Cecconi, Toscanelli, and Count de Domine. The Bey, surrounded by Memlukes and servants, requested Suliman Effendi to give him medicine to send him to sleep. The latter spoke in Italian to himself, went to the small army medicine-chest, being watched by the slaves, took laudanum and gave it to the Bey, in a silver tablespoon; but the desired sleep did not come;—and Mustaphà himself called for opium, though he was not accustomed at other times to use it. The attendants, still remaining in respectful silence, heard and saw how the Sicilian muttered again in Italian, again poured laudanum into the spoon, and held it to the mouth of the Bey. Scarcely had the latter taken this dose, which was larger than the first, than blood rushed from his nose and mouth, and he slept for ever. His Memlukes knew the bottle on which the name was specified, too exactly, and called it Rogh el Affiùn (spirit of opium). Suliman Effendi did not appear the next day, and on the morning after, when he came to me, was very discomposed and absent in mind—exclaiming, “che brav’ uomo! peccato,”—whilst he sought every moment his snuff-box. Whereupon I asked him, whether he had given the Bey laudanum twice? He did not deny it, but he had only given “a few drops,” “e, Signor Avvocato! mi era padrone, io servo suo.”

I had everything to fear from this man, who otherwise was friendship and familiarity itself, on account of my brother, whom the Basha intended to put in his place, as medical inspector of Belle Sudan, and had openly expressed that intention. It was therefore with the most solemn earnestness, that I threatened him with death, if I should not find my brother alive on my return, and should discover that he had come in contact with him.

“Dio guardi, che affronto,” he said, and quietly drank his glass of rum; for a similar insult had been openly offered to him in the divàn of the Basha, which naturally referred to the poisonings laid to his charge in Arabia and here. Not only did the superior military and civil officers fear to take medicine from him; but also the Basha—who, indeed, knew him best—would not receive on one occasion a glass of lemonade from him, though he had prepared it under his own eyes, and asked my brother for another glass, which was, of course, annoying to him. He was called at the bazaars “Rogh el Affiùn;” in the coffee-houses, “Rogh el Affiùn,” and “el Marras” (ruffian, or bad man).

The unhappy end of Mustaphà Bey found general sympathy; and some astonishment was excited when it was known that the Basha had threatened Suliman Effendi with the bastinado if he did not pay his debts. Even in the divan of Vaissière (which we also called the exchange, because this man, who was an officer under Napoleon, and decorated with the croix d’honneur, carries on the most considerable traffic in slaves in the whole country) the death of the Bey was discussed by the Franks; and it was doubted whether it had been done by Ahmed Basha’s orders, or whether Suliman Effendi had accomplished the deed of his own accord, in order to render an essential service to him.

Whilst they were speaking of him, the old greybeard entered with his accustomed sallies of wit. They laughed at his conceits, and treated him as usual, which is so easy for these European people, even when they have deadly hatred in their hearts, that it makes an honest man shudder. I could relate a good deal of these Europeans, but it would make too long a digression here, although we are stopping between the Blue and White Nile; and I consider it even my duty to particularize them by name on another opportunity, as I, with my iron sceptre in my hand, have before threatened to do. My brother and myself might perhaps be reproached for having visited such companions, who, under an exterior appearance, by which the mere passing traveller is so easily blinded, have utterly abandoned all law, justice, and morality, and have almost renounced Europe; and for having associated with men who are no longer masters of their better selves, but entirely lost, and of whom we were warned in Káhira. Kahira and Alexandria must be known to estimate properly such a warning, as it does not refer to the immorality of men, but only to the preservation of one’s own interests against danger. Káhira, as well as Alexandria, affords abundance of materials for a chronique scandaleuse, and forms an uncommonly rich and highly interesting stubble-field of unmistakable colonial nature, where a careful winnowing of the higher society would give a surprising result. It is the same even with the small and partly ephemeral colonies of Franks in Khartùm, where they concentrate themselves at times.

After a tedious journey of three months, we arrived here. The Muslims perceived the French flag hoisted as a matter of precaution, as it generally prevents the ship being taken away for the use of Bilik (government), and they crossed over to the Douaniers, who never lose sight of their prey: we were truly glad to find human beings again. Our flag was known by no one except by Vaissière, who gave vent to an old grudge against the Prussians, and excited a prejudice against us among the Italians, which was so much the greater, because a noble example of Prussian manners and customs had caused an uncommon sensation here in Khartùm. The long title of my countryman was hardly perceptible on the fragments of pots, whereon we read “Puckler-Muscau,” called and supposed by the common people to be “Sultan betal Moscow.” However, they tendered their services to us with uncommon hospitality, letters having preceded us which possibly described us as harmless fellows,—except one, a German letter. A Frank, in white Turkish costume, addressed us, like a shade from the lower regions, in the German language: we were surprised, and especially when he asked about a letter from my countryman ——, which at the best, therefore, must have been an Uriah’s letter. The pale citizen of Khartùm calls himself a peasant (from the neighbourhood of Wurzburg), and is now inspector of manufactories in Kamlin.

A letter, full of low calumny, from my amiable friend had found its way even to him, although I had not done him any injury; but he was too well known. He had, in a peculiar sense of the word, given me letters of recommendation against my will, not only here, but in Cairo, to which city he took the trouble of writing three. It is the curse of a prolonged residence in the South that the character of Europeans, and particularly of the northern nations, alters more or less in course of time. Slumbering passions display themselves in an odious and very dangerous manner; the cat becomes a tiger raging against itself, if the spirits of Ahriman,—brandy, and opium,—have him betwixt them;—and at last he is mocked and laughed at. A choice of companions, who might be called “good and bad, or high and low,” was not to be found among the few Franks in Khartùm. They live a cat and dog life with each other, but are breathing witnesses that this is the land of the Lotophagi; for, from their frequent convivia and bacchanalia, they might be supposed to be bursting with love and friendship. Whoever is really in earnest to acquire general information on the manners and customs of the East, and to increase his knowledge of human nature, must not carry himself as cautiously as a diplomatist, provided he is conscious of good sound principles, fostered from youth upwards.

Mustaphà Bey was dead; Ahmed Basha had lost a rival, and moreover came into possession of 2000 purses, by the closest money transactions with the public exchequer. The brother of the victim arrived with a high and mighty Firman from Constantinople and Káhira, to fetch his brother back to Thrace from the unhealthy climate, and, perchance, also from the dangerous contiguity to Ahmed Basha. It was intended, perhaps, that he should come too late, for they managed, in a remarkable manner, to procrastinate his stay in Káhira, and also on the road. He was very much cast down, and scarcely regarded by the Turks, even by the Copts, wherefore he did not dare to reclaim his inheritance, as he valued his life. Sero venientibus ossa could not, however, be said of him, for the Charim (harim), with flesh and blood in abundance, remained to him. This arose from the Princess or Bashalessa,—as the wife of Ahmed Basha, and the daughter, or adopted daughter, of Mohammed Ali, is called by the Franks,—having, in an unusual visit, openly shewn her sympathy, and prevented, by her authority, on the part of the Divàn, the harim being plundered. This lady was awarded to Ahmed as a mark of peculiar favour, when he was residing in Káhira, where she also remained behind till the year 1840.

Ahmed Basha was obliged to discard his former wives, according to the custom here, and also in Turkey, when the daughters of the Sultan are married. Even those great men were forced to do this, to whom Mohammed Ali, in that magnanimous reduction of his inventory of women in 1838, bequeathed princesses from his Charim (for whom he had lost all regard, and would not pension as widows), to be their reigning lawful wives, and whose slippers, conformably to the Mussulman custom, they were compelled to kiss. Our Bashalessa is, according to my brother’s opinion, an accomplished Levant lady, who knows how to distinguish good from bad, and feels herself extremely unhappy in Khartùm, where she is confined to her cloister, with an occasional excursion on the Nile. She is desirous of getting away from the place, and wanted, therefore, to entrust my brother, when we had determined on our return, with a letter to her father Mohammed Ali: she sent also, contrary to her former custom, several times during my brother’s illness to inquire after his health. When he was called in to see her as a physician, she received him without a veil, just like her attendants, and spoke continually of Masr, and asked after political news. She is a tall, imposing, and almost masculine person, with a deep voice, yet very courteous;—but not nearly so handsome as two novices in her train, condemned to chastity. In the antechamber, from whence the Tauwàsch (eunuchs) did not dare to step over the threshold of the cell, he always found an European breakfast to console him. She may, therefore, have contributed to Ahmed Basha’s being recalled to Káhira. The latter, however, did not obey the repeated invitations, and died of a tertian ague in the spring of 1844. His successor was Ahmed Basha, known by the epithet of “Menikli,” (meaning “great ear,”) whose march to Taka appears, according to the usual vaunting of the Arabs, to have turned into just as rapid a retreat.

Khartùm forms, in every respect, the capital of Belle-Sudan; it has a mixed population of about 30,000 souls, and lies, according to Duke Paul William Von Würtemberg, (who visited this country in the spring of 1840, and went as far as Facharne, near the Geb’l Kassan, three or four days’ journey above Fazogl), under the 15th° 41′ 25″ north latitude, on the northern point of the land of Sennaar, between the Nile and the White Stream. It is called Khartùm (point of land) from this position. Only a few fishing huts marked, some thirty years ago, the place where gardens and fields extend on the narrow neck of land running from the city northward towards the mouth of the White Stream, from whence the colony, advancing upwards in the direction of the Blue Stream to the south-east, turns the greatest part of its numerous gardens to its principal side, whilst the miserable huts of the Baràbras lie scattered about the level margin of the White Stream. The small group of houses standing in the place of the fishing huts I have mentioned, is called el Belled, meaning village here, in opposition to Helle (city). Khurdshid Basha is, properly speaking, the founder of Khartùm, for he fixed his residence here, erected more public buildings, and even established a dock on the White and another on the Blue Stream. Except the dyami (mosque) and the bassàr (bazaar), all the houses are built of lathes, or air stones, the fabrication of which is so slight in the new buildings, that very noxious standing pools are formed, which, at the first rains, are immediately peopled with frogs, said to come out of the earth. Ahmed Basha understood these disadvantages to health so much the more, because he himself was subject to frequent fevers, and wished, in order to obviate the noxious evil of the unhealthy situation of the city, not only to fill up these ditches, by pulling down the houses nearest to them, but also for the sake of a better draught of air, to have wide streets formed. To render the city secure against any danger from water, he was to have made the shore of the Blue Nile an angle of 45°, and the earth removed thereby, with the ruins of the houses taken down, was to have been employed to make a broad dam;—this dam to be planted with trees.

In like manner, a long wall was to have been raised along the White River, and an extensive sandy country would have been laid under cultivation. We spoke on this subject in Taka, and he immediately wanted a drawing of a plan, which was easily made, even at so great a distance, because, excepting the mosque and the new bazaar, no heed was to be taken even of his palace. Ahmed Basha had really much practical sense, and thought that every one ought to be, by instinct, a bit of a Hakim and Maendes, (physician and engineer).

The departure of the expedition was fixed for the 23rd November, and yet three cannon shots, unexpected by any one, resounded to-day about l’Asser, (three o’clock in the afternoon), as an imperative signal, although it had been long wished for by me. I sprang to the window and heard myself summoned, from the ship which was to convey me, to come immediately. Now there arose an indescribable swarm of people and clatter on the shore, a crying, howling, and leave-taking, so that I was glad to be able to squeeze through the crowd to the cabin. Sounding above every thing arose the shrill treble of women, that inimitable and horrible quavering cry, “Kullelullullulu,” by which they give vent to every lively emotion of the heart in pain, joy, and misery, with different modulations which a foreign ear can only distinguish by frequently hearing them. This time it was a farewell cry, for every one flocked to the shore to give the parting greeting, and some rushed even into the Nile to the side of the vessels. There were women, daughters, sisters, brothers, and the chorus of black, brown, and white dancing girls, who nimbly drew from large round vessels of clay (burma) more merissa, and passed this parting drink round in gourd shells (gara) among their acquaintances, gratis. These dancing women, or filles de joie (guavàsi, sing., ghasië), are never wanting here at any feast, whether with Turks or Christians, and break, at least, the monotony of such comfortless society where woman is always excluded.

If we few Europeans had not perhaps dragged ourselves very quickly to the vessels, with an occasional curse at the climate on our lips, the Turks, certainly, did not move more actively; nay, they were even more enervated by the influence of the climate, and the discomforts attending it. They came therefore surlily, sluggishly, and unattended, having left behind their attendants in the harims. It was only the coloured people that suffered nothing; they were in their native element. Our black soldiers embraced one another, shouting for joy, because they were going to the south, to their free fatherland, from which they had been inhumanly torn by Chasuas or Dshellabs (slave-hunts or slave-dealers). Inspired by Merissa, they shouted, in their language, to their different countrymen, who, partly in chains, were carrying water, and many a plan for the recovery of their freedom, and the destruction of their oppressors, may have been awakened in their rude minds. Belle-Sudàn means not so much Land of the Blacks, as Land of Men of Colour, for assuet denotes black, and sud smutty or dingy, as the word is used here; for example, in dirty linen. According to the colour, the name might have been used as beginning from Assuan, but the northern boundary of Belle-Sudàn is formed by the two rocks of Assul, on the right shore of the Nile, a declivity of the Achaba Shangull. That Achaba with its rocks crosses the Nile, and its natural gates also are the boundaries of the Mamùr of Berber. But here, where the poor, fair child of man, not excepting even the Arabs and Kopts, totters about and fades away, weak, and feverish as if he were affected with the Marasmus senilis; here upon his native soil, we ought to see this dark people, how boldly and freely, nay wantonly and flexibly—again, how angularly and awkwardly they move their limbs under this glowing sun;—how they stamp with inconceivable pleasure, fury, and perseverance, upon the hot ground in the wild dance, till the earth trembles again. Here it is that we must see the Blacks, when they have drowned their grief for their lost freedom, and the home-sickness which kills most of them, in sparkling Merissa, if we would know them thoroughly, with all their peculiarities, and in their entire bestial beauty. From this muddy soil of the shallow lakes of the inner countries fermenting under the hot sun, such a dark-coloured and black breed as the Dinkas could alone spring, with the primitive forms of human monsters, yet with plastic frames, without being masters, in our sense, of their mass of limbs. With what ease and purity the naturalized dark-brown Arab and Baràbra, and the black Nuba move here:—how secure their tread on the vessels, in comparison with our Egyptian lubbers, who, like the Pachydermata, cannot renounce the Fellah.

The line of the vessels unwound itself into a curve from the shore of the blue stream; the cannons thundered, all the guns were repeatedly discharged, the drums (trombet) beat a flourish; here and there arose a noise and contention for places; the Arabs sang to the stroke of the oar with the accompaniment of the tarabùka (pot drum), the Baràbras struck up songs with their tambùr (guitar, Arabic, Rabàba) at the same time: here one blew the double flute (argùl), there sounded the sumàra (pastoral pipe). All this was done chiefly to stun themselves and to lighten their agitated hearts. Scarcely had I by signs taken my leave, than there came over me a feeling of separation, as if I had left my brother Joseph in Khartùm. Many days journey indeed he was from me, and in a campaign that I knew, from being previously present at it, was dangerous. At Gohr et Gash, I had jumped on a dromedary without first embracing him: we had both regarded it as a good omen, but now our separation was first definitively decided. In Khartùm I had, at times, received intelligence or letters from the camp; here we had so often afforded brotherly assistance to each other on a sick bed, and mutually saved one another’s lives. What dangers, what adventures awaited him and me between the present and the moment of meeting again!—but—we shall yet see one another.

Sailing down the blue stream, we soon neared the wooded island of Tuti, inhabited by the Baràbras, rising gently like a little Delta, at the conflux of the two arms of the Nile. This island is said to be the oldest colony of the Baràbras in these parts, on account of which they bury their dead there from the whole surrounding country, just as the Arab tribes, and the other inhabitants of the banks of the Nile carry their dead to the village of Hubba, lying opposite to Khartùm, upon the right side of the Blue River, because in both places highly revered Sheikhs or saints have their tombs in lofty, cupola-shaped vaults, gradually diminishing upwards to a conical form, and called Hubba, (not Kubba, which means the plague, a disease entirely unknown here). The White River, flowing to the north-east, rolls in an unbroken stream along the north-west side of the island of Tuti, whilst the Blue River, whose current is more than twice as strong, bounds against this straight, whitish stream of water, as well as against the south-east side of the island, and winding through between the latter and its right shore, which juts out, makes a bend, deserts its former direction to the north-west, and turns in a north-easterly one, with the White Stream.

Here, once, both streams met and became united in a lake, which might have formed a triangle, according to the direction of the White Downs, above Khartùm from the Blue River, near the village of Gos Burri, the smallest angle of which went towards the south into the White River. At that time, the Blue Stream exercised quite a different dominion, and did not condescend to the before-named bend at the Island of Tuti, from which bend the traveller is firmly convinced that the Blue Stream flows into the White. The inhabitants of the banks, however, assert the contrary, for the former, as being the Nile, is considered, as it were, sacred, from its superior water and its more beautiful colour; although they allow that both streams spring from one source. This likewise redounds to its fame, that it is said to flow five times quicker than the White Stream, which latter indeed is nearly stagnant in the dry season. With all its good qualities, the Blue Stream displays a destructive activity towards Khartùm. If it had extended this activity before, more towards its right shore on the east, and spared the low ground heaped up by it towards the west, to be the foundation of a future city, and formed by its alluvial deposit a dam against the White Stream, its waves would now wash up more against its west shore, exactly opposite to the principal side of Khartùm. It is very certain that it is not necessary to go back into the ages before history, to speak of a land-draining of the northern point of Sennaar, since the expression “fok el Bachr,” points plainly to the old river’s edge by the Mosque; and likewise, not a single brick has been found in all this lake soil of Khartùm, except on the hill near Burri, which also must be considered merely as a new shore of the lake. As I have said before, the Blue Stream always extends more towards the mouth of the White, which it has already pressed down against the edge of the rock, in the desert near Omdurman, whilst it extended itself, like a lake, immediately from Hubba in the extensive low country east of Halfaia, until it closed the road there with the hilly alluvial deposit upon which this city is partly built.

If the lake ground at Khartùm was principally governed by the White Stream, and its deep, clayey site overlaid with sand, the blue stream has heightened its lake at Halfaia with a fruitful soil, which yet enjoys at high water its blessed waves, that impart, however, only a soft green to the forest.

Near Wud, or Wolled Hüsseïn, four hours’ east of Halfaia, a natural canal is seen in the rocks, with a steep fall, which even now is active as a Gohr, and might have made an outlet once for the lake on this side. The immediate cause, however, why the blue stream, by Khartùm, presses against its left shore, and flows almost under the houses of Khartùm, lies in the fact, that it has thrown up so much sand within these few years, against its east shore from Hubba to the island of Tuti, that the inhabitants of that great village are forced, when the water has somewhat subsided, to go far over the sand of the heightened bed of the river to the water, and that the inhabitants of the island there wade through the Nile to the right shore, on a sandbank ominously forming itself. If this last current of the blue river shall eventually be dammed up, its mass of water will rush with the strength of a powerful mountain torrent against the mouth of the white stream, and raise it, because its last strength is already expended, even at a moderate height of water, by the projecting rocks and the islands impeding its mouth. Then Khartùm will be lost, and the water will not only regain its former territory below Djami, but the blue stream will also break through above the whole city, as I sufficiently convinced myself a short time ago, at high water, when the city, notwithstanding the miserable Turkish precautions, was saved as if by a miracle, and the blue stream looked into my window, over the narrow dam of earth, which is about three or four feet high.

On this occasion, I saw five gazelles at the south-west end of the city, near the hospital, gazing with wonder on the mirror of the water of the wide white stream passing over into its old lake basin, which was driving them towards the city. A stupid Topshi (cannoneer), who was at too great a distance, without further ceremony scared them away immediately by a heavy shot from the powder magazine, whilst I, with my servant, had made a long circuit through the water, in vain. On such an inevitable swelling of the river, which must lead to the destruction of Khartùm, the old double lake that has ebbed away, will come to life for some time, and not only wash away the island of Tuti even to its rocky base, but also the whole margin of the left shore of the united stream up to Kàrreri, which, however, possesses in its rocky mountain, about three hours’ distant from Khartùm, a breakwater reaching from the desert of Baguda.

Ahmed Basha perceived all this very well, when we travelled together on the Nile to Tomaniàt below Halfaia, where he had taken the best fields from the Shaïgiës, in an illegal manner, and had ordered fifty sakies (or chain of buckets, for raising water) to be constructed upon it, and where the sesame was standing majestically, higher than a man, and might yet grow another foot. For this purpose—to obviate the danger which might arise to the future royal city—the bend of the right shore near Tuti was to have been broken by a deep canal, in order to carry away the sand from Hubba, and to deepen there the bed of the river. A favourite plan of the Basha’s, however, was to make his residence a fortress, to erect works on Tuti, and to place Khartùm upon an island by a canal, to be opened from the Blue to the White Nile; for such a canal formerly existed from Soba to the White Stream. Old people relate, to be sure, but only as a rumour, that the White and Blue Stream met together there. The ruins of Soba already known (which place one hears pronounced likewise Suba and Seba), consists of heaps of burnt bricks, without any other cement than the Nile slime, which have supplied the surrounding country for the vaults of the reputed holy Sheikhs, as well as in more modern times, Khartùm with materials for its mosque: they extend over a considerable space on the right shore of the Blue River. I heard the country opposite these ruins called likewise “Dar Soba;” therefore a contra-Soba, or perhaps once united to it, since the burnt and fused masses of brick, the wide-scattered bricks and fragments, even the ditches, if there had not been clay or foundations and vaults dug out, indicate, at all events, an old place. A small village on the edge of the river, under shady mimosas, and called Soba, extends to this. I have found just as slight traces of that canal, or of the bed of a river in this woody country, as in the other Soba on the right side of the river; and, therefore, I cannot assume, with regard to the last-mentioned ruins, that they were once situated on the land of Sennaar, although the right shore might indicate the violence of an irruption of water through the city itself.

Before I forsake the Blue Stream, I must yet remark that, besides the usual name of “Bach’r asrek,” it is called in this neighbourhood, “the Nile, or Bahr el Nil,” as I have often convinced myself. If it be asked why it is called the Nile, the answer is, because it has beautiful and good water: the old expression for this river is therefore identical with its properties. It is just the same in Egypt, where, as I found from experience, especially in Káhira, Bahr el Nil expresses the material properties of the water, for even the sakkah (water-carrier) interprets the Nile water with hellue (sweet), in opposition to cistern and brackish water. The Basha calls it also nothing but Nile, and says that certain Sheikhs have declared to him, that ignorant people call it after its blue colour. Nile means in the Arabic language indigo; otherwise this word is no longer used for a blue colour. I had an opportunity of hearing the word Nile used for inundation, together with Ba Kebir, or ruga tossiga (great water), denoting the same thing. The old expression of Nile awakes here, therefore, at the moment when it discloses itself as a divinity, a protector, and a nourisher of the country and people. Only the large pastoral Arab tribe of the Shukuriës, in the so-called Meroë, between the Blue River and the Atbara, has the peculiar name of “Adehk,” in its Aggem language for this stream, whilst the other nations in their name for it, indicate its colour. Those of Dongola, and Mahass, who both boast to be Gins betal Thin (people of the soil), call it Amanga Arumga, and Essige Rumege, and the united stream, Ruga; even the far distant Nuba negroes, the old support of the family of the Ethiopian mixture of blood, from Assuan to Rossères, call it Blue Water (Tè Uri). It is the Blue River, therefore, which possibly has imposed the name of Nile on the united stream, and might have formed the road of cultivation to nations wandering down and back again, whilst the mouth of the White Stream, retarded by lake-like shallows and swamps, was far less known. As, in addition to this, it is denied, with some justice, that fertility and good water are the property of the White River, it might have been, in the ages of antiquity, despised so much the more, and looked upon as a subordinate stream, not to be spoken of: not a single burnt brick, or other memorial, points to an earlier intercourse with it.

Before we entered the mouth of the White Stream, we conferred the last honour on the sacred water of the Blue River, by filling the large earthern water-vessels, (Sirr, like the ancient Amphora) with a great noise, and cursed the White River as being stinking (affen.) The sails were worked amid prodigious confusion; the north-east wind blew gently in them, and we bent our course from the Mogren, (denoting equally conflux and mouth, confluentia et ostium,) round the northern point of the land of Sennaar, (Ras el Khartùm, head of the neck of land,) and sailed slowly to the south over the rocks, overflowed with water, into the White Stream. There we heard the last kulle-lullu-lulu of the women, who raised, with both hands, their handkerchiefs in an arch over their heads, as in funerals. This made most of us laugh, especially my men, who thought that they had as good teeth as the Njam-Njam, so much feared by many, particularly by well-fed Egyptians, but whose country no one could point out.

CHAPTER III.

VILLAGE OF OMDURMAN. — MOHAMMED EL NIMR, THE BURNER OF ISMAIL, MOHAMMED ALI’S SON. — MEROE AND THE PYRAMIDS. — SENNAAR. — WANT OF DISCIPLINE ON BOARD THE VESSELS. — SCENERY OF THE RIVER. — TOMB OF MOHA-BEY. — DIFFERENT ARAB TRIBES. — HILLS OF AULI MANDERA AND BRAME. — SOLIMAN KASCHEF. — REMARKS ON HIS GOVERNMENT. — AQUATIC PLANTS. — THE SHILLUKS AND BARABRAS. — LITTLE FEAST OF BAIRAM. — CHARACTERS OF THIBAUT, THE FRENCH COLLECTOR, AND OF ARNAUD AND SABATIER, THE ENGINEERS. — HONEY. — MANDJERA OR DUCKS. — FEIZULLA CAPITAN’S EPILEPTIC FITS. — WOODED ISLANDS. — THE HEDJAZI.

We find ourselves in the gulf, properly speaking, of the arm of the White Nile, whose waters now extend majestically, and form an elliptic bay towards Sennaar. The trees of the village of Omdurman, lying upon the left shore opposite the neck of land, still stood in the water, as evidence of that forest which Khartùm in its neighbourhood is said to have absorbed, and by that act to have forfeited the blessing of rain in an almost incredible manner, excepting the slight showers which are usual at this season. Omdurman lies upon the rocky edge of the Desert of Bajuda, and is inhabited by the Gallihn or Djalin. This people is not of importance on the left side of the Nile, for it does not possess, except Metemna and some villages, any settlements; on the east shore of the Nile, however, it makes up the principal population between Abu Hammed and Abu Haràsk. Mohammed el Nimr, the burner of Ismail Basha, was the Sheikh of this people, and was called by them Sedàb. He has founded for himself, principally through his courage and hatred of the Turks, which were shewn near Nasùb, a new kingdom on the borders of Habesh, above Sofi, where the two little rivers of Settiel and Bassalahm flow into the Atbara: he lives in league with Wud Aued, the Sheikh of the Dabaina Arabs, and is on the other side connected by marriage with a Ras of Makada. Immediately beyond the village of Omdurman, there are found upon the bare, washed-away rocky ground strown over with pebbles, some foundations and burnt bricks, which we ourselves saw, were used in the building of the bazaar, and which were without any admixture of lime, although they lie upon chalky rocks, from which lime has been burnt for the Djami and the Bazaar. So, also, the bricks of Gos Burri, where the traces of a very great colony are extant, travelled to the banks of Hubba, the bricks of which are of uncommon goodness.

The land of Sennaar, to the west side of which we are now sailing, is called through the whole country par excellence Gesira, the Island, for it is taken for one by the people, and is designated also a land by the latter word, as Meroë was once, and indeed from the very same cause. But if we speak of the city of Meroë, the ruins of which we may assume to be in the plain on the Nile under Shendy, where the villages of Gebelabe, Marùga, Dengèla, and Bahr-auie are—this place was certainly situated upon an island. The low country towards the pyramids down to the village Maruga, where a canal filled with mud now disembogues into the Nile, would plainly shew this, if a bed of rocks, perhaps intended to separate the sacred city from the great churchyard, were not just before that heap of rubbish, on which is pointed out the forge, or the heavy scoriæ of metals, said to have been wrought by the powerful Kafr Ibn Omàli el Kebir. The names also of the two villages Bahr-auie, (not Begrauie and Bigrauie, as the Egyptians and Kenuss pronounce it,) and Ma-ruga, refer to water, in the same manner as Dengela perhaps does to a fortress; Dongola, also, is called in old writings Dengela, or Tongul, (according to old Sheikh Hampsa in Hannak, who is well read.)

The hills of ruins of Meroë in complexu, are called Geb’l Omàli, and the Pyramids, which the ass-drivers in Kahira call Piramill and Paramill, are called here Taralib, and Tarabill, as at Geb’l Barkal. In the latter place, I heard from the Faki Mohammed in Abhdom, who has inherited rare manuscripts from his father in Meraui, that the true name is Tarable, indisputably from Turab, sing. Tura, a grave; if not from Troab, a stone. Lastly, as to the Pyramids of Assúr, as those in Meroë or Geb’l Omali are called in Europe, the Sheikh of Maruga knew them only as Chellal el Aschùr above Metemma. With these people we are always right, if whilst asking one of them we chose to fit some name to a place where ruins are found, however corrupt it may be. This is partly politeness, as I have seen again and again in “Piramill;” partly, they believe, also, that we, as the descendants of those Kafirs who built such towers, must know better than they, where we have to seek for the buried treasures.

Let us ascend, therefore, from the island city of Meroë to Sennaar, to follow the course of the White Stream up to the Equatorial country, after some ideas have been first suggested about the origin of the denomination of this Mesopotamia, which may lead us back into those times when, according to the notions of the Egyptians, the Nile separated the Asiatics from the Afers (or Kafirs.) Sennaar (Σενναάρ, שנְער LXX.) means a land in which Babylon and other cities lay; Sennaar, better, however, Sennarti, means a little island near Ambukoll, where, in the language of the Baràbras, “Arti” denotes an island, and is always appended. “Wachet-sin,” or “sen el har,” (a hot tooth, or throat,) was a piece of soldier’s wit, which I heard in the city of Sennaar.

Joy and pleasure reigned on board the vessels, and the fresh air failed not also to have its beneficent effect upon me, for continual motion and variety are the principal conditions in the South, on which depend the good humour and feelings of internal life. Thus, the present expedition promised me pleasure and strength; and to enable me to make my ideas and thoughts speak livingly from my breast, without losing myself in a dreamy state of reclining inactivity; and to permit me to see, observe, and compare a strange world with its insipid surrounding scenery, without delaying writing my Journal till the next morning.

But the prospect of attaining our aim—viz., of seeking and finding the sources even beyond the equator—appeared to me at the beginning from the constitution and composition of our expedition, to be doubtful. The vessels were to follow one another in two lines, one led by Suliman Kashef, the other by Selim-Capitan; but already, when sailing into the white stream, this order was no longer thought of. Every one sailed as well as he could, and there was no trace to be discovered of nautical skill, unity of movement, or of an energetic direction of the whole. How will it be, when the spirits, now so fresh, shall relax through the fatigues of the journey?—when dangers which must infallibly occur shall arrive, and which only are to be met by a bold will directed to a determined point?

However, these gloomy impressions could not last long; the scene around was too picturesque, too peculiar, too exciting. On the left, the flat extended land of Sennaar was gently clothed again with copsewood and trees; and on its flooded borders rose strong and vigorous Mimosas (sunt and harasch) out of the water, high above the low bushes of Nebeck and Kitter. In the same manner the left shore was wooded, from which we were at a tolerable distance, owing to the north-east wind. Behind its girdle of copsewood and trees, reaching just as far as the waves of the majestic stream in their annual overflow give their fertilizing moisture to the soil, the bare stony desert extends upwards, as it shews itself at Omdurman, in profound and silent tranquillity. So much the more animated and cheerful was it on the river.

The decks of the vessel, with their crowd of manifold figures, faces, and coloured skins, from the Arabian Reïs who plies the oar, to the ram which he thinks of eating as the Paschal Lamb; the towering lateen sails, with the yard-arms, on which the long streamers, adorned with the crescent and star, wave before the swollen sails; the large crimson flags at the stern of the vessel, as they flutter lightly and merrily through the ever-extending waters; the singing, mutual hails and finding again, the ships cruizing to and from the limit fixed for to-day;—everything was, at least for the moment, a picture of cheerful, spiritual life. With a bold consciousness, strengthened by the thought of many a danger happily overcome, I looked beyond the inevitable occurrences of a threatening future to a triumphant re-union with my brothers.

Nov. 24th.—Our yesterday’s voyage was soon ended. We landed on the right shore, about two hours’ distant from Khartùm, near the tomb of Moha-Bey, overshadowed by two luxuriantly-growing harash-trees. They stood in the water, though the year before, on the 16th of November, they were far removed from it: thus giving four feet and a half higher water, and affording me the consolation of thinking that we shall penetrate further, although I perceive no great haste in any one, for we might have gone on very comfortably, and without any danger, the whole night. At sunset yesterday it was 22 degrees Reaumur (at our departure 25 degrees).[4] The appearance of the scenery had hitherto not changed.

The left shore appears entirely flat, equal in height to the water-line, to which the distance adds certainly something. Yet, on the right shore, the river from the Shudder Moha-Bey, has thrown out or deposited downs, which enter, in an undulating form, into the deserted lake territory.

The Kalàklas (Arabs) dwell, from these two trees on the right shore, in two Kabyles, under Sheikhs Bachit and Abugleff. The Hüsseïnudis (whose Sheikh, Abu Bekr Wollet el Mek, shares with his father the fame of valour, and of whom the Turks speak with respect,) extend to the left shore, opposite to the Kalàklas; they pay, however, Tulba, (tribute) as do all the Arab races of the White River, up to the Shilluks.

We sailed to-day in the morning at sunrise, but soon halted again on the right bank of the river, at the Arab tribe of Abdallah Ozerrs, where we took in wood. Another unnecessary delay! This might have been done yesterday. From the Abdallah Ozerrs we came to the Gulamabs and Hussein-Abs (Ab, abbreviation of Arab). At noon we reached, with a few deviations right and left from our course towards the south, the rocky hill of Auli, which rises to the height of some two hundred feet on the right shore, a day’s journey from Khartùm. From the numerous fragments found in the vicinity, being a conglomeration of chalk and limestone very much washed and brittle, this hill evidently belongs to the limestone formation. The name is derived probably from the Arabic auel; because this is the first high ground met with on the White Stream. It is also called Gare-Nebih, from a Sheikh buried there, and from whom also, conformably to the Arabic custom, the tribes dwelling there have taken their names.

Opposite to Gebel Auli, over the left side of the river, is seen another and more extensive elevation, bearing the name of Mandera. These rocky hills are of granite formation, and seem not to exceed a height of three hundred feet above the level of the stream. The word Mandera has here no more a Greek signification than Auli, although it still means, in Káhira, the lower part of the house, where the stables generally are to be found; in which, certainly, its analogy with sheepfold and a monastery is very close. But it here signifies a height upon which there is no water. On the left bank of the river are two tribes, which live in friendship and cultivate their durra fields in common. Higher up are the Gemulies, and beyond these the Mohammedies, belonging to the race of Gare Nebihs, whose Sheikh lies buried on the western plain, and who here possess both shores.

The Gebel Mussa soon shewed itself on the left, two hours’ journey from Gebel Mandera, also a hill of rocks (hornstone formation), which has received its name from the holy Sheikh buried there. Therefore, here also prevails the tasteless custom which in Europe has displaced so many radical names of places in history, tradition, and popular custom. The old name of this mountain is Brame; in which at present I can see no meaning. Both of these tribes dwell on the right and left shores; where likewise are found venerated graves of the family of Sheikh Mussa, to whose progenitor Mount Mandera belongs. Their present Sheikh is called Mussa Wollet Makbull,—a sensible, brave man. Rapidity of the stream one sea-mile; depth four to five fathoms and a half. Yesterday, when we sounded the stream, there was little or no current, which in fact decreases with the depth. This morning, at sunrise, it was seventeen degrees Reaumur; at noon thirty; and in the evening, at sunset, still twenty-seven degrees in the shade, at the open window.

Nov. 25th.—We halted, yesterday afternoon, opposite the Hill of Brame (Gebel Mussa), for it was the eve of the lesser Bairam feast, and Suliman Kashef wished to shew himself there in all his glory. We had now arrived at his piratical states, an extensive territory of several days’ journey; which he, as Kashef of the first rank, has acquired under the ægis of the Basha Ahmed! who had his peculiar share therein. If he does not understand how to read or interrogate, his administration, nevertheless, goes on excellently, according to the Turkish manner. He knows how to receive a complaint or petition with much grace, and with the other hand, to let the beads of his sebha (rosary) glide through his fingers to keep time with his course of ideas; to glance over the paper in appearance whilst he listens to the bearer, and then to hand it with stately contempt to a Faki to read to him. Really generous and social by nature, he loves to have cheerful people, in pure pleasure and genuine joy, around him; and appears to be beloved by this tribe whom he helps to oppress, since he selects, like a Nimrod, the élite for his predatory expedition; but if the enterprise succeed, does not let them go away empty-handed. As far as the Shilluka and Dinkus he is a dreaded guest, full of warlike artifices, Circassian and Ethiopian κρυπτεις, and of open fierce valour, and known only under the name of “Abu Daoud,” which means “Chief David,” and seems to be an historical name of the Ethiopian land; for it cannot be supposed to apply to the King or Prophet David. The old Sheikh Mussa himself appeared to pay his respects; and the Circassian was exceedingly glad to see him continue so fresh and well,—at the same time he winked at me to draw my attention to the flexible nature of the Arabs, when he gave the Sheikh to understand, with the most unruffled countenance, that he must procure an indefinite number of cattle and sheep for the feast of Bairam. All the Arabs suddenly drew a long face.

I made use of the time to examine the country, to ascertain clearly the lower formation of the valley of the White Stream. Here, also, the river is partly dammed up by downs, on which there are single groups of tokuls in the shade of Mimosas, the inhabitants of which belong to the races of Arabs dwelling farther back, who form a kind of line of defence towards the Stream, and amuse themselves with the chase, especially that of the Nile buffalo. Behind these downs, washed by the stream, is low ground covered with verdure, which alone would prove that there had been an inundation, even if standing water were not visible here and there, left by the river when it broke through or swept away the deposited and accumulated downs, and spread itself over the low country until it was sucked up by the sun. The valley, besides the good grass already dried up, was covered with various kinds of shrubs, with thorny nebek and kitter, with brandy clover called loïd, with mimosas, harash, sant, salle, &c. In the midst of these there are many paths formed in hastening to the water, by which the deer and the herds, when pursued, immediately divide the huntsmen, and lead into impenetrable thickets of thorns and creepers, or to sloughs and swamps where danger threatens on all sides, without their being able to render assistance to each other. The humid spaces were covered with luxuriant aquatic plants; amongst which was a Nymphæa with a reddish calix, like the convolvulus, and large cordate leaves. This, to my great astonishment, was called Loss, and reminded me of the old word, lotus, and is as prevalent here as the white lotus (Nelumbum speciosum), at a later period, the double flowers of which shine at a great distance through its leaves, taking light and life from the other aquatic plants, and covering the whole watery region like flat tumblers. The white lotus, called Zitehb, might here, as it once did with the Egyptians, serve as an emblem of the material world, from its abundance, like the potatoes with us; its roots serving equally for food.

The stream had not long returned to its limits, as I soon convinced myself, when, wandering to its brink, I saw to the south of this embankment an expanse of water stretching far over the land, out of which the tops of the taller trees peeped forth like verdant islands. Beyond the inundation still older downs were visible, which are no longer disturbed by water. These heights and hills connected with each other in an extremely arbitrary manner, or lying scattered, and partly forming a manifold circumvolution of the white stream, are not perhaps remains of an old deposit from the river, but probably the product of alluvial soil and earth thrown up. The river acquires for itself, from its well-known fruitful qualities—the nature of the place being favourable, by means of the plants floating towards it—a green border, which mostly consists of bushes, whose roots, matted together, resist the action of the stream. These bushes retain the yearly deposited slime of the Nile, and continue to grow with the ascending ground. So, likewise, the sand driven in when the water is low, and the portion of earth thrown up by the violent squalls of wind, remain behind protected by the bushes. When the water is at its greatest possible height, this accumulation is chiefly covered with its fertilizing layer of slime; whilst by the pressure of the water and the particles forcing themselves upwards, it still becomes higher. The sandy earth deposited by every wind, and the roots of the bushes penetrating through the moist soil, increase the swell of this formation of hills, by the fall of their leaves and wood, as one may plainly see in the spheroid and parallel sites of the shores of the downs, which have been partly destroyed.

In the interior beyond Mandera dwell the Kabbabish Arabs, a widely-spread Nomad race, possessing large droves of camels and horses, which they bring down from time to time to the shore to drink, and to supply themselves with drinkable water. This is the point of time at which Suliman Kashef is on the watch to extort tribute from them.

The Baghara (cow herdsmen, from Bagh’r, a cow), a wide-spread Arabian tribe, dwell further up the stream and possess the country as far as Kordofan. Their name is collective for many Kabyles of this Nomadic nation, who are to be considered as branches from the very same root, although from necessary local circumstances (in reference to pasture-ground), or from dispersions brought about by dissensions, various names of places and chiefs must have arisen gradually displacing the names of the original race (gios), and recognizing no longer any patriarch or archezekes, or Great Sheikh, but only the kindred (Kabyle), of their hereditary leader or Sheikh. The latter we see in their peculiar origin in every Arabian camp in the closer union of their relations, and in every great Arabian village, where they live retired among themselves, and frequently by means of a a seriba (enclosure) like families, in the encampment of a people who are of one and the same blood.

The Mahass use the expression gebeirù for Kabyle, and this corresponds with the signification of γένεα. On account of this original connection by blood, no wars occur between them, the boundaries of their pasture-grounds having continued undisturbed among them since ancient times, and been recognized by other tribes, though lying before them in small separate encampments. The Baghara of the left shore are here all mounted, which enables them to make daring incursions into the lands of the Shilluks and Jenugah, who are not horsemen. The Baghara, on the contrary, of the right side of the river in Sennaar, settle themselves very submissively with their whole family to take care of cattle, entrust the charge of the tents to the women and children, and exhibit to the spectators the most strange groups when they move from one place to the other, and kindled fire in the evening to cook by, in front of every tent. Precisely because of their difficulty in moving, contributions are levied on them by the Basha, and they are hostilely visited, on which occasion the Funghs unite themselves to the Turks. The Baghara are also forced to come to the shore for water and pasture, when they are frequently waylaid, robbed, and plundered by the Shilluks, who, however, only requite like for like.

I heard that the Shilluks, who dwell in these parts on the river islands, and on both shores, but further up on the left only, display uncommon skill in their marauding expeditions. The Arabs say they crawl upon all fours as swiftly as a snake; and rarely use force to effect their robberies, but effect their purpose with incredible cunning—a circumstance which agrees but ill with our preconceived idea of the qualifications of a robber. In the East, however (we will not speak generally of the Southern lands); and, indeed, among the ancient Greeks, craft was considered equally worthy of a man as open combat, if it led to the point aimed at. The Shilluks are said also to be compelled to use artifice in this anterior part of their territory; which has extended, according to the expression of the Barabras, up to the mouth of the White River, because their number has become very small by the advance of the Arab tribes, with their horsemen clad in armour, and they could effect nothing by open violence. Peculiar washed-up limestone conglomerates and porous volcanic productions are here found on the shore, as well as a number of small Conchylia; Paludina bulimoides, Melania fasciolata, Neritijachasa Jordani, Cyrene consobrina, and a new species of Physa, distinguished by a plait on the spire.

Nov. 26th.—Before we left Sheikh Mussa, yesterday morning at eleven o’clock, we had an uncommonly stirring and merry time of it. The Rhamadan, fasting month, was luckily over, and the little feast of Bairam, which follows it, was celebrated the more worthily, because Sheikh Mussa had not remained deaf to the friendly persuasion of Suliman, and had had oxen and sheep driven down quite early in such quantities, that the eyes of the whole crew sparkled at seeing them. In a trice the Kashef allotted their shares to the different ships, and sent me also two capital wethers for the next day, the beef here being generally tough and coarse, and even despised by the Turks.

This peculiarity of the meat depends on the nature of the fodder; for the tender grass and herbs of our marsh-lands and pastures are wanting here. And the climate exercises a considerable influence in the hardening of animal texture, which the surgeon himself perceives when operating on the human body. Our Arabs, who, like the Greeks and Jews, born butchers and flayers, know no mercy for beasts or men, fell upon the victims, hamstrung them, to obviate the chance of any resumption of the gift; and the festive hecatomb fell—a sight pitiful to behold. Every one tried, during the flaying and quartering, to cut off a little piece or strip of meat, or stole it from the back of the bearers. This little booty was stuck on skewers into the glowing fires, which were still burning, and voraciously devoured, in order to prepare the stomach for the approaching banquet. Although they know how to roast the liver excellently, they preferred at this moment to cut it up into a flat wooden dish (gadda), to pour the gall of the slaughtered beast over it, strew it with salt and pepper, and so to eat it raw. This tastes not a bit worse than a good raw beefsteak. The ships were drawn up abreast, in order to lessen the procession of the general salutation to the Bairam.

I found Selim-Capitan with Suliman Kashef: the former had thought it well to do homage to the latter as his superior, by offering him his congratulations. Suliman embraced me tenderly, right and left, according to the Turkish custom; and so did every one in his turn, till I began at last to take myself for a Turk, although I did not even know the formula of salutation. Araki (brandy from Aràk, perspiration, distillation) was handed round instead of the coffee (Kawoë) usual at other times; and the servants had enough to do to continue filling the small flagon, in spite of the extreme narrowness of the spout through which the liquor had to pass into the glasses. The Frenchmen also soon appeared in Turkish costume, as we all were; their sabres by their sides, as also is usual at every visit; and, moreover, with their marks of distinction on their breasts. But, in spite of all the airs they tried to give themselves, they were far surpassed by Suliman Kashef in personal imposing dignity; so that no one, even if he did not know the different relations in which they stood, could be in doubt who was of the most importance here. His demeanour is quite simple, but yet of that character that it restricts every pretension to its proper limits; although Arnaud tried to speak like Mohammed Ali, as if he had been his privy-counsellor, and wanted to prove to us that he was a Marquis; whereupon he acquired there and then the name of “Le Prince de la Lune,” in honour of his bald pate and his marquisate in the mountains of the moon.

We set sail, with a faint breeze, at about eleven o’clock, with twenty-nine degrees Reaumur, towards south. I remained with the Frenchmen till noon. Thibaut was soon somewhat the worse for liquor, and uttered all kinds of stale witticisms. Although he has sojourned many years in these parts, he still remains while on his travels a genuine Parisian, who, wherever he goes, never divests himself of the Parisian atmosphere, and interests himself in nothing, properly speaking, but the doings of that city. To-day his brain was haunted with the Parisienne, which he was humming incessantly, although he had not seen the revolution to which it owes its origin.

The two other gentlemen are a perfect contrast: Arnaud affecting to be continually busy, without however producing anything, and throwing out continual bitter taunts against his young colleague Sabatier. The windows are covered with curtains: he does not venture out of doors to make the necessary inquiries; but merely now and then looks at the box-compass, although the vessels turn every moment, and go first to the right, and then to the left shore. The compass, therefore, affords no indication whatever of the course of the stream, for the boundaries of its shore generally decrease from the height of the water, and become undefined; and thus a correction of the compass might possibly be made on the return voyage. Sabatier, on the contrary, appears quite negligent and lazy, because he is not well, and will not endure the arrogance of Arnaud; so that these gentlemen engineers mutually accuse each other of ignorance. In other respects, he seems to me a frank and open youth, who might be taken for an American rather than for a Frenchman, from his having served in Texas.

I found the time hang heavy with these insipid men and the monotonous scenery, and was not a little glad, when the uniformity of the latter was broken by the luxuriant clump of trees on the island of Assal. The island, which is not large, is said to derive its name from honey (Assal), which is collected in great quantities from the trees on it, as also on those of the islands succeeding. This wild honey is blackish, and leaves in the mouth a bitter taste, derived from the wood, mostly sunt. Honey from trees is generally not so fine and palatable as that found in rocks; accordingly, the honey from the Hejaz, nearly white, and almost crystalized, is even preferable to the Grecian. Tree honey is said generally to have something narcotic in it, but then it must be eaten by spoonfuls, for I have not found it so. There is, indeed, a drink prepared from it, which is certainly intoxicating. The blossoms of the mimosa, blooming nearly throughout the whole year, afford the principal resources of the bees, although there is no want of flowers, which, in conjunction with the tanning-bark of the knot-holes, may contribute to the narcotic qualities of the honey. Those nests, hanging loosely, of a species of wasp, which give only a little honey, and are seen in Taka, do not appear here.

The village of Thebidube is next seen on the right shore; it belongs to the great race of the Hassaniës. I was surprised to observe, not far from the village, ruins, clearly the remains of larger buildings than Arabs huts. The place was called Mandjera or Docks, and I learned that the former governor, Kurshid Basha, had founded these extremely convenient docks, owing to the forest being near. They were, however, abandoned by Ahmed Basha, in accordance with the favourite Turkish system—because his predecessor was the founder.

Half an hour above, we lay-to at the village of Masgerag el Tair. Masgerag is said to mean the same as “street;” the whole word, therefore, is “Bird Street,”—but we did not see many birds. Here the Sheikh Mohammed of Wadi Shileï came to greet us. The Arabs of this place also call themselves Shileï, from a Sheikh buried here, although they belong to the main stem of the Hassaniës. An Arnaut of Suliman’s shot, in my presence, a hare whilst running; the ball entered in behind, and passed out in front. The Turks consider themselves the best shots in the world, as well as the best riders:—although they can do little when the animal is running and the bird on the wing, on account of their long and heavy guns.

Believe it or not, you may hear this boast every day, without being able to convince them to the contrary.

Nov. 27th.—Here, on the borders of the Arabian dominions, we waited in vain for a courier from the Basha, fearing lest he should have changed his intention with respect to the expedition. I passed a very bad night. In the middle of the most profound sleep, I was awakened by a fall in the cabin. My good Feïzulla Capitan, the commander of my vessel, had tumbled on the ground from his tolerably high place of rest opposite to me. I thought I heard the death-rattle, and saw by the light of the lantern, that the froth was standing in his mouth, which was firmly closed. The servant very coolly said to me, “Mabegaff!” (don’t be afraid). It was the first time that I had tried to open the hands of a person struck with epilepsy, but upon my doing so, he soon came to himself, to the astonishment of the crew; towards morning, however, he had two more fits. I now learnt, not to my great consolation, that he had from youth upwards suffered this affliction, and that it frequently returned. But my night’s rest was disturbed, and I sat myself on my Bamber before the door, where the sentry very quietly slept. When this fit came on Feïzulla, I sprang to him, without any one else having troubled themselves about him, because he was too good and indulgent to the men. Hard drinking, together with the heat, had contributed perhaps, chiefly to the violence of this attack.

The air was cool, compared with the heat of the day, and the profound stillness of the night was very impressive, through the soft uniform rippling of the water on the stern of our ships; but the snoring of the crew, who were lying pell-mell, was insufferable. I had a peculiar feeling of loneliness and abandonment, not lessened by the reflection that I was on the White Nile,—this stream, the source and course of which had appeared a riddle for centuries to all cultivated nations. As a half-forgotten tradition descending to our days from the infancy of the human race, impels us to explore the Nile, so our expedition is, in the main, nothing but a continuation of the endeavours of the Priests of the Nile, the Pharaohs, the Phœnicians, the Greeks under the Ptolemies, and the Romans under Cæsar and Nero. It is as if mankind in general, like a single individual, were ever seeking anew, with unabated desire, the sources with which the first awakening to intellectual consciousness is connected.

The sun rose to day magnificently behind the old high trees on the brink of the river, when we sailed further to the south. I remarked that the trees standing quite in the neighbourhood of the water or in it, were mostly withered. These, therefore, had had too much of a good thing, and soon died away through the sudden change, when the water left them, although they surpassed in size the older trees behind them. Passing by the village of Damas on the right shore, and the three luxuriantly wooded islands (the most important of these is called Tauowàt), where the vessels made, certainly, many windings, without the course of the shores of the river being ascertained, except that they had a southerly direction. We came towards noon to the mountain group of Areskell, which elevates extremely picturesquely its six or seven rocky peaks on the left shore, although at some distance from it. At their foot lies the large village of Tura, up to which the ships from Khartùm and Sennaar come, for from this place two main roads lead to Kordofan. At two o’clock in the afternoon we were for the first time, with a faint breeze, opposite the mountain, and landed at the village of Masgerag Debasa. We sent our Sandal across to Tura, which, because our fleet and Abu Daoud were dreaded, brought us back wethers and butter. The village itself was not to be seen; it lies, like most of the villages (of which, several in this route are dissimilar, though nothing to signify), as concealed as possible, and further inland on account of the inundation.

At sunset, the country presented a truly charming landscape. The stream, which might have been here about an hour broad, glowed like liquid gold, whilst the sun hid itself behind the Araskòll, and the slender sickle of the moon shone clearer in the west, with Venus, in the cloudless sky. The three islands of Genna, Siàl, and Schèbesha, stood out, with their thick forests, from the tranquil water; and on the other side the pointed peaks of the mountains grew dim in the deep blue, over the dusky woody foreground of the left border of the river, with the charms of an island in the Ægean Sea. Close to me, the shore is enlivened by the coloured and black forms of the crew; some play and wrestle, with songs to the sounds of the pot-drum, (Tarabuka); others lie and squat round the fire, stir and cook by it; others hunt, while some throw themselves into the stream, pursue each other in swimming, dive, and run again to the fires, which, in the increasing darkness, throw magical streaks of light on the water, and repeat themselves in it, with the strange groups illuminated by them. So long as the flesh-pots of Egypt, distributed among them by Suliman Kashef, hold out, they are all of good cheer, and appear to have no other wish than to spend the time agreeably according to their own fashion; to play nonsensical pranks, and make jokes for the amusement of the Turks, and when that is no longer practicable, to return as quickly as possible. With respect to the real design of our expedition, I see on all sides, a negligence and indifference which nearly make me mad. The latitude is 14° 5′.

Nov. 28th—The sun has risen an hour since.—At last the drum was beaten to shew that our Jason, Suliman Kashef, was awake and permitted Selim Capitan to set sail. We had left the two tree-islands, Genna and Sial, on the right, and turned to the left shore. I now found confirmed what I had already remarked—namely, that throughout the left shore, there are not any heights or downs, as on the right. Therefore the stream exercises a far greater dominion over the former, as is plainly seen by the extensive wooded country being inundated. The wide brink of the shore appears principally to lie on the right side of the river, and generally above the level of the left side, which circumstance, perhaps, might be accounted for from the cutting down of the Ethiopian Highlands. We also remarked, from the edge of the right shore being torn away, that a more fertile soil has covered the lower earth, and that the stratum of land is only upon the surface, whereon the downs lay. We found yesterday, near the Island of Tauowàt, a shining black, sandy earth, which Mr. Arnaud called mud: the naturalist, Thibaut, on the contrary, declared it was ferruginous earth; it was, however, nothing else than black volcanic sand. It was mixed with clay, and looked like the laminæ of sifted iron dross; small black crystals formed nearly a third of the component parts, (pyroxene and horne blende, according to appearance). It seemed to have been brought here from the eastern side by a gohr now filled up with mud, or by an old channel of the river, and formed on the shore a layer of about a foot high, above which again was the usual earth strongly alloyed with sand. I had already seen on the right shore volcanic productions. It would therefore be interesting to follow these traces with the gohr into the interior, in order to explain these phenomena in Central Africa.

We quitted the before-mentioned Island of Schèbesha, on the left, and arrived at ten o’clock on the Island of Gùbesha, nearly two hours’ long. If the right shore has unprotected places where the water enters deep into the trees, the inundation also extends so far on the left shore, that the eye may follow over the plain the glistening of the water through cavities and decayed wood. The Island of Hassamë, also very woody, comes directly after Gùbesha, and is soon succeeded by the Duème, which is covered with wood. These islands, according to the eye, extend in a line from south to north. About noon, we had the last-named island at our side, and, for the first time, put into the left shore. Here Mustapha Bey had established a Saghië (a water-wheel, for the purpose of irrigation); and many things of the same kind, as well as a settlement, would have followed, if the good man had not been poisoned. In the neighbourhood of Khartùm, Ahmed Basha, fearing his influence with the population would not permit the purchase of land, as the Bey declared to me himself. He also related his campaigns, in which he reached the “Gazelle River,” and a large lake, from whence the White River issues, and which must be that lake the first expedition sailed through. This is the last place where we shall pass the night ashore, for it behoves us to be secure from the natives. I did not examine our landing-place till the sun was going down, because it did not appear to me advisable to go to the chase with my huntsmen, and to expose myself to the heat of 29 degrees.

The acclivities here extend far backwards into the country, and afford a proportionate extensive survey. I ascended the nearest hill, and was not a little surprised to find, in and upon the black earth, a number of fragments of earthenware, and pieces of burnt brick, as likewise decayed and consumed conchylia. I soon perceived also, new graves, belonging to the small village near at hand, which convinced me that I was standing in an old churchyard, to which the new one joins, because the Moslems never bury another person in the place where once a body has lain. The number of conchylia is easily explained: it is the custom of the people to secure their graves in this manner against wild beasts, which would otherwise root them up; for they always cover them with broken white flints, which do not exist here. This village is new, and was founded by a Faki, a native of the country, who lived a long time in Hejàz, and by the aid of Kurshid Basha, who wanted to make it a strong station. The people, as well as their village, are called on that account Hejasi, which I continually heard pronounced Ajazi; and took for a national name—as the respected Burckhardt did the Ajazi, in Sennar,—until the corrupted word was explained to me etymologically. Not a soul came from the village to welcome us, and an embassy was sent just as little on our side, to fetch a Don gratuit, or Viaticum, since the pious devotees of this place are called, naas batalin (malignant people), and therefore I was immediately recalled from my excursion.

Suliman Kashef was vexed at the non-appearance of the Faki, and was of opinion that he was a devil (Afritt), who must however be spared. Here, in the vicinity of Pagan nations, these Hejazi form a kind of missionary establishment, at the head of which is the Faki as the Sheikh, who, far from imitating the luxurious ostentation of other missionaries in the East, has arrived at last by mortification and eloquence at a self-consecration, and has gained a great number of adherents, even in Darfur, where the Islam has been spread for some time past. He has known also how to maintain his authority by a judicious use of fire-arms; for his rabble of pilgrims are fanatical and insolent. Their slaves, converted per fas et nefas, are the most zealous adherents of the Koran, when they have once breathed the air of Mecca, and return as free Hajjis, to their country, though they have generally only learnt the usual prayer “Allah Akbar,” with the short confession of faith, “La illah ul ullah wa Mohammed Rassúl Alla” (there is no God but God, and Mohammed is the prophet of God).

This formula is sung without intermission, in funeral ceremonies, keeping time to the trot, rather than to the walk of the bearers of the corpse. It is a formula which every traveller here should remark; although I, for my part, have never made use of it, except for a joke with my brother, when he or I lay sick in bed of a fever, and desponding. As the apothecary Bartoli, in Khartùm, a year ago, repeated directly before his death this formula, as a piece of wit which happened to be his last words, the Muslíms, who were present, wanted to carry him immediately to their churchyard, and to return thanks to God for having enlightened him with the true belief.

Kurshid Basha ordered Saghiës to be built here, at his own cost, for the Hejazi; but the scaffolding for them is only to be seen now. I believe, from the various traces of earlier and extensive agriculture, to which these heights owe indeed their irriguous formation, that the fragments of bricks and the potsherds I had just found, belonged to an earlier city, which had fallen to ruin, or been destroyed, and which perhaps stood on the site of the old churchyard. The hill, about thirty feet high, being so close to the water, must have invited a settlement at a very early time. It is clearly perceptible that the water by the river-side has carried away a good deal of the hill. This may have been sufficient cause, for the inhabitants of the city, to desert it entirely. It is true that the soil is here also dark in its lower strata; but it is, however, very strongly alloyed with sand, and has but little resemblance to the greasy and slimy soil of Lower Egypt, and even to the shore of the blue Nile. The process of fecundation in the inundations of the Nile, consists indeed in the vegetable remains of the neighbouring forests, and abundant marsh-plants, which have been washed away, settling and depositing themselves afterwards as a humus, when they have been amalgamated by continual rotation with particles of clay and sand from the dark yellow Nile water, till they become a liquid pap. On the shores of the White Stream the woods are too near, and therefore their fallen leaves are carried away before the vegetable process can have properly taken place. For this reason I account for the fertility being so much less in proportion. After all, I believe that the Blue river is the real parent of Egyptian fertility, and that there was more; before the Dam, thrown up by it on the right ride, prevented it from carrying away also the leaves from the eastern forests. The Atbara and the smaller influxes of the right shore of the blue Nile above, still remain perfect canals of fecundity; and it is plainly seen by their darker colour that they separate at high-water.

Our Frenchmen, this afternoon, set about calculations with a great air of importance, although they did not appear to be well. Sebatier has had an attack of siriasis, and Arnaud has also lost much of his pathos. I hear with astonishment that the calculations made hitherto by these gentlemen, are said to agree to a hair’s breadth with those made by Selim Capitan in the preceding year. Strange! But I don’t believe in such an exact coincidence. It is much more probable that the Turk, being a naval officer, has far more experience than the all-knowing Frenchmen; and that the latter, being well aware of it, adopted their predecessors’ calculations without any scruple.

Selim Capitan laughed when he yesterday instructed Arnaud in handling the instruments. Thibaut remarked this as well as myself; and it perfectly corresponds with the expressions of Sabatier, who calls his colleague an ignoramus, because he abandons to him the calculations he does not know how to make himself.

At a distance of twelve hours’ journey from the before-named Hill of potsherds, near the village of Hejazi, is seen, towards the south-west, a considerable mountain. It is called Bihtsh; which name is found also in the islands of Philæ. I could not find any such word in the language by which I could judge of the analogy of the two mountains. The Gebel Bihtsh is said to contain silver; and at Masgerag Tain it is asserted that silver has been found up the country, from whence came the present, which the Sheikh of Wadi Shileï in that country brought to Suliman Kashef. This present was a stick, curved at the top, some two feet longer than the one in common use from Korosko hither; and though only of the thickness of a finger, was called Hassaie,—an expression which is used besides for a heavy club. This pastoral sceptre was very prettily overlaid with silver, and the ornaments on it merely engraved with a bad knife; and, considering such a wretched instrument, they were of marvellous fineness. In Sennaar, as well as in Kordofan, they know how to wire-draw gold and silver; to make remarkably beautiful zerfs (the inlaid stands of coffee cups), and sword-handles from these metals, displaying good taste; although, particularly in the last-mentioned articles, where crowns as the head-top, and the form of the cross, are engraved on the handle, the whole representing a knight’s sword, called Sefbanbrah; the West and the Crusades have afforded them models.

CHAPTER IV.

MONOTONOUS SCENERY. — CULTIVATION OF DATE-PALMS. — EL AES. — BOUNDARY OF THE TURKISH DOMINIONS. — REPUBLIC OF APES. — HUSSEÏN AGU’S FAVOURITE MONKEY. — CRUELTY OF EMIR BEY. — ADVENTURE WITH A CROCODILE. — BELIEF OF THE TURKS IN THE TRANSMIGRATION OF SOULS. — LIEUT. ABD. ELLIAB, THE DEVOTEE. — THE TAILORING PROPENSITIES OF FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — A “FANTASIE”. — FEÏZULLA’S INTEMPERANCE. — GUINEA-FOWLS. — ABU SEID. — DESCRIPTION OF WATER PLANTS, AND GRAPES PECULIAR TO THE WHITE NILE. — THE AMBUK-TREE. — GEBL DINKU. — ABDURIECKMAN, CHIEF OF THE SHILLUKS, AND SULIMAN KASHEF’S BARBARITY. — HIPPOPOTAMIA, AND CURIOUS SUPERSTITION OF THE SAILORS. — THE DINKAS AND THE SHILLUKS. — THE LOTUS. — MOUNT DEFAFAUNGH. — TAMARIND TREES. — THE TAILOR-CAPTAIN, AND INSUBORDINATION OF HIS CREW. — FIRST APPEARANCE OF GNATS.

Nov. 29th.—The fires were still blazing on the shore when the drum was beat for decampment, and the sleepers lying around them were partly obliged to be awaked with good blows in the ribs. To-day, for the first time, we set out before sun-rise. Whether the expression I uttered in a conversation with the two Turkish commandants,—“We must make haste and gain honor from the Viceroy and Basha; for if another expedition should appear necessary, he will certainly place it under the supreme command of a ‘Frank,”—had any thing to do with these unusual exertions, I venture not to decide. It is certain, however, that they dreaded my Journal, for Ahmed Basha declared that he would have it translated into Turkish. A brisk north wind got up with the sun, and we sailed E.S.E., making five sea-miles and a half in the hour, according to the log, which gives, however, one mile for the current or rapidity of the river.

The channel to-day swarms with islands, so that we sailed by at least eight before nine o’clock; when we had one on our left side three hours’ long; others were probably concealed from us. It is really fortunate that trees always indicate the presence of an island, else we might have many times splendidly run a-ground, for the shallows are only slightly covered with water; and the grass, shooting above the surface, proves the frequent fluctuation of different channels. The voyage is very monotonous; though the numerous shallow islands are often grouped very picturesquely, and appear sometimes to bar the river, and to dam it up into a lake. Added to that, we have always the sight of a majestic stream, bordered by green osiers; but the verdure itself offers no variety in the foliage and form of the trees, no blending of colours, since it presents to the sight only mimosas, which are here merely sunt-trees. There is no rock, house, hill, or mountain here whereon the eye, wearied of monotony, can rest, and which might serve as the halting point of imagination; moreover, there is not a sound to be heard in nature. The gigantic American streams can alone produce a similar impression. Although the river in some places intrudes deeper than usual into the right shore, yet the limits of the inundation are always sharply cut off, whereas on the left side the water is seen continually between the dark shaded trunks of the trees, where even the lowest branches do not prevent it from running on in parallel gohrs, or deserted beds of the stream, into other tracks of the river, glittering especially at noon, when it is usually calm. Many of these, which now appear to us to be islands, will, perhaps, when all the water returns, join on uninterruptedly to the mainland. Two shots, the signal of danger to one of the ships, fall behind us, and are repeated by us and the other vessels. Thibaut’s vessel draws water; but the Turks laugh at his anxiety, sail on, and say that he is drunk (sakràn).

Towards eleven o’clock the wood on the right shore opened, and some tokuls were visible on the shore, at a little distance from the river, on a line of hills running parallel with it, and standing near those dome-palms we had hitherto missed, with the exception of the young copse on the water’s edge. The cultivation of dates, which might really be a blessing to the country, in Sennaar, as well as in the extraordinarily fertile Taka, is entirely neglected, although the gardens near the city of Sennaar, like those numerous gardens in Khartùm, afford examples of a very advantageous transplanting in these southern regions. They will doubtless give a refreshing appearance to the latter melancholy-looking city by their rich crowns of fruit, when they once rise over the clay walls and houses surrounding it. But the people, that they may escape the taxes imposed on every date-tree bearing fruit, will not plant and take care of them; neither will they cultivate cotton, because they are obliged to deliver the produce into the Shune at an arbitrary price. Ahmed Basha had 6000 young date-palms brought up by water from Sokkot and Mahass. The ground he chose in his caprice to form a close plantation in, with these trees, lay too low (for he wanted to save the expense of irrigation), and the Nile overflowing it, uprooted and choked with its slime the fine young stems. No Turk thought of washing the slime off and planting them again. The Basha did not grieve at this abortive work, and was even of opinion that the Nile had done well, for the lazy people of the island (Sennaar) would never work again if they once had dates, as is the case in the country of the Baràbras, who could never be good soldiers (askari).

We approached the place, and found only three people there standing by their watched boats; and saw, far on the naked plain, men engaged in driving their cows into the interior to secure them from us. The miserable village, which may number some fifty decayed tokuls, was called El Aes, although it is only a summer village for herdsmen and fishermen belonging to the larger city of El Aes, lying up the country. This city once gave the name of land of El Aes, or Dar el Aes to the whole region up to Khartùm, now known under the name of Wollet Medine, lying above Khartùm, on the Blue Nile. The city of El Aes is one of the principal colonies of the Hassaniës, and was at the time of the Funghs one of the three capitals of the kingdom; the others were Sennaar and the now almost deserted Arbagi on the Blue river. It is also a kind of emporium between the Shilluks and Sennaar, wherein the traders of El Aes, by their slaves, barter Kurbàshes (the whips commonly used here, made from the skin of the hippopotamus), tamarinds, dried bamies, and Uèka, in exchange for horned cattle, durra, and woollen stuffs. The Sheikh el Belled had prudently departed for Khartùm, and could not therefore wait upon us here with a contribution, to become our guide and interpreter through the islands, as he did the preceding year, when Suliman Kashef, without any ceremony, retained him on board ship with his son. On this account we did not land; besides, we feared that our men would desert.

Immediately above the village commences again the forest, and we see by the many dry leaves scattered about that the consumption of firewood, and consequently the accumulation of human beings, cannot be very considerable. As there was nothing to be got we did not remain long. Close to the left shore is an island nearly three hours’ long, one of those fertile plains so numerous here, six more of which we passed, though indeed of less size, up to three o’clock in the afternoon. At this time we landed some two hours’ above the so-called El Aes, near the old and partly withered trees, for the purpose of taking in wood for fuel. The ancient elevated river’s edge, up to which the water can no longer rise, being retained by the downs which are themselves washed up, is plainly visible on the right shore, through the light places.

Now we are beyond the boundaries of the Turkish dominions; that is, properly speaking, beyond the intricate and organized Turco-Egyptian system of plunder. Henceforth, tribute (tulba) is no longer collected. At my question, what people dwelt here, the Turks answered regularly, like the Arabs, “Kulo Abit” (all slaves.) I could not help laughing, and made them understand, to their vexation, that these people are free, and not so much bondsmen and slaves as they are themselves: that they must first take them prisoners to make them slaves, for which they had no particular inclination, and answered me very naïvely, “the slaves here are very numerous and brave!” (shatter.) This contemptuous expression, “kulo abit,” is used by the Ottomans, almost like the classical barbari—that same classical word which the modern Greek has learnt by heart from foreign schoolbooks with a good-natured orthodoxy.

The vessels not being able to reach the dry land, owing to the shrubs and trees, I had myself carried through the water to the shore, in order to take a survey of the country and to make a shooting excursion. I could not, however, make up my mind to use my gun, the only animals in the neighbourhood I could shoot being white-grey long-tailed apes, called Abelènk, similar to the Cercopithecus Sabæus, but more silver-grey and far larger. I had shot such an one on a former occasion, and the mortally wounded animal had, by his similarity to a human being and his piteous gestures, excited my compassion so much, that I determined never to kill another. Mr. Arnaud, on the contrary, took a peculiar pleasure in watching the wounded monkeys which fell by his shot, because, in the agonies of death, the roof of their mouths became white like that of a dying man. It was affecting to see how the mother apes precipitated themselves down from the old sunt trees and secured their young, playing before our feet, behind the high branches, and darted round the corner until another malignant ball reached them from behind, whereupon they let their young fall from their arms, but the little creatures clung firmly to the old one by running, climbing, and springing under her belly. They live together in families of several hundreds, and their territory is very limited even in the forest, as I myself subsequently ascertained. Although they fear the water very much, and do not swim voluntarily, yet they always fled for security to the high branches hanging over the stream, and often fell in, whereupon they, in spite of imminent danger, carefully wiped their faces, and tried to get the water out of their ears before they climbed up into the trees. Such a republic of apes is really a droll sight,—coaxing, caressing, and combing each other, plundering, fighting, and tugging one another by the ears, and, during all these important concerns, hastening every moment down to the river, where, however, they satisfy themselves with a hurried draught, in order that they may not be devoured by the crocodiles constantly keeping watch there. The monkeys on board our vessels not being fastened, turned restless at the sight of the jolly free life, and at the clamour of their brethren in the trees.

The Milàsim Auel (First Lieutenant), Hüsseïn Aga of Kurdistan, lay alongside us, and had endless pleasure in his little monkey. He shouted over to me, “Shuf! el naùti taïb!” (Look! the clever sailor!) meaning his little favourite, who jumped about the mast and the yard as though he were mad, ran down the ropes, looked into the water from the side of the ship, and then strayed from his master, till all of a sudden, he clung to the back of a sailor who was carrying through the water a package of dirty linen to the wash, and before the latter could lay hold of him made a bold spring ashore, to greet his relations, for he also bears the name of Abelènk, although of a much smaller species. He has been frequently carried from Sennaar to Kàhira, where he is called Nishnash and Capuchin. The long Kurd, just as he was, jumped overboard with his gun to shoot the deserter, in favour of whom, I quickly called out, “Amahn.” The little climbing sailor must however, from being a Turkish slave, and on account of his diminutive figure, have met with an unwelcome reception, for no sooner had Hüsseïn Aga stepped under the trees, than the monkey again jumped on his head. He came to visit me afterwards, and brought his “Naùti taïb” with him, who ought to thank himself that I interceded for him. Hüsseïn told me then, what I had often heard, that monkeys were formerly men, who were cursed by God. It really is said in the Koran, that God and the prophet David transformed into monkeys the Jews who did not keep holy the sabbath-day. On this account a good Moslem will seldom injure or kill a monkey. Our Turks, however, were an exception to that rule, when they could, by infringing it, gain a few base piastres; so likewise was Emir Bey in Fàzogl, on another occasion.

The latter was sitting at table with an Italian, and just putting into his mouth a piece of roast meat, held between the fingers and thumb, when a monkey of the cynocephalus (Arabic Khirt) family snatched it hastily from him. The Bey very quietly ordered the hand of Abu Dom (so called from his reddish yellow colour, similar to the fruit of the Doum-palm) to be cut off as that of a robber (Garami), which was done on the spot. The poor monkey came immediately afterwards to his cruel master, and shewed him, with the doleful accent peculiar to him, the bleeding stump of his fore paw, whereupon the Bey ordered him to be killed. The execution, however, was prevented by the Italian, who begged him as a gift, for the purpose of healing him. I came, soon afterwards, into possession of this foolish beast, who contributed as much to the amusement so necessary to me on the return voyage to Egypt, as the filial attentions of my freedman Hagar from mount Basa, whom my brother had received as a present, and bequeathed to me. My servants would not believe but that the monkey was a transformed Gabir (caravan guide), because he always preceded us, and on the right road, even in the desert; and availed himself of every stone and rock to look about him, whereupon the birds of prey frequently drove him under the camels to complain to me with his “Oehm, Oehm.” This complaint he also uttered when he had been beaten, in my absence, by the people, whose merissa he helped to drink, till he could not move from the spot, and committed all sorts of misdemeanours.

I found on the shore large snail shells (Ampullaria ovata), and also some river oysters (Ampulla tubulosa Caill), as well as a number of fresh foot-prints of hippopotami, though we had not as yet seen any of these animals. These river buffaloes must be of enormous size here, to judge from the foot-marks which we made use of to place the large household pots upon.

We had already, however, seen many crocodiles, which are but seldom met with when the water is high and turbid, for they then, like the hippopotami, inhabit sloughs, caused by the swelling of the Nile, because fish are more plentiful there, whilst the graminivorus hippopotami find their nourishment in the thriving marsh plants.

I myself came into very close contact with a crocodile, larger than any I had ever yet seen, whilst both barrels of my gun were only loaded with smallshot. The monkeys had amused me long enough. I advanced, therefore, further up the shore, turned round a huge tree, the right side of which, facing the water, was covered with thick underwood: I soon, however, drew back behind it, for I here nearly walked into the jaws, literally speaking, of a crocodile, as another step would have brought me to the creek, which was quite filled up by the monster, as he lay in front of me. I looked round for my huntsman Sale, an active, good-tempered, but very inconsiderate youth, who carried my rifle; but he was not to be seen. Yet I could not help taking up another position behind the trees, which afforded me protection, in order to fire a volley of shot at the odious beast, whereupon it very quietly retreated into the stream.

When I subsequently reproached Sale, he answered me very naively that I should not hunt so close to the shore, for that he had more than once, whilst gazing at the birds and monkeys in the trees, on looking down, seen the head of a crocodile close before him, glaring at him like a ghost (Sheitàn, Satan); and which he dared not shoot lest he should kill his own father. Of witches and sorcerers who transform themselves and others into beasts, especially into crocodiles and hippopotami, that even in their transformation, still bear the griefs they received when human beings—how injured wives often wither up their husbands’ stomachs, and place them on their backs by magic, &c.—tales such as these we hear related as true, even by those to whom these occurrences are said to have happened. The traces of a belief in the transmigration of souls cannot well be mistaken, although almost entirely obliterated by the Islam; but it is only applied here to the degradation into beasts—such as serpents and dogs.

When at a distance from the shore, it is as well to have a barrel loaded with ball, there being in this region many lions whom we hear roaring at night. One soon, however, becomes accustomed to such dangers, nay, I might say that we are not only rash, but quite foolhardy, in neglecting all precautions and means of preservation, and, therefore, we have nothing to reproach the Arabs with in their everlasting “Allah kerim” (God is merciful, the Dio é grande of the whole of the Levant). To be burdened with guns and shot-pouches is troublesome, owing to the heat; on this account we often sally out without weapons, not intending to go far from the camp, when suddenly, allured from one object to another, we find ourselves at a long distance from it, and, consequently, helpless against danger.

Towards evening cartridges were served out, and muskets loaded, for we are now, for the first time, in a hostile country! The powder-room stood open, and the men with lighted pipes passed continually to and fro unrestrained, over the open hatchway. Allah kerim! I seek to rouse my captain from his indolence by drawing comparisons, every moment, with the English sea-service,—I fall asleep myself whilst the powder is being distributed, and waking early in the morning, find the hatchway still open, and the sentinel, whose duty it was to give an alarm as soon as the water increased in the hold, fast asleep, with the pipe in his hand, and his musket in his lap. Feïzulla Capitan begged me not to report the poor devil (el meszkin).

The upper strata of the ground here are sandy and but little fertile, yet I sometimes sank so deep into water and the livid clay soil that my red shoes stuck fast. Beyond the gently elevated margin of the shore, the ground is flat and bare, with short grass and stunted copsewood, among which the wood usually made for tobacco-pipe tubes in Sennaar, with its light grey rind, oblong-shaped leaves and truncated at the top, is particularly abundant, and very much in request with the crew. The height of the water here was, owing to the great breadth of the inundation, not near so much as further downwards. In Khartùm, where the bed of the river on both sides is contracted by the sides of the shores, it must have been twice as high at this time. The whole inclination of the ground in the territory of the White Stream, sinks from E. to W. The Nile is the best hydrometer for this observation, for I have frequently remarked that the islands in the neighbourhood of the right shore are generally less inundated than those on the left; therefore, in the former, the greater elevation of the eastern bank still continues.

An observation also, which I made on the plains of Meroë, or rather on the enormous plain between the Atbara and the Blue Stream, contributes to strengthen this opinion of mine with respect to the slope of the land from E. to W. It can be plainly remarked there that the rain-water runs off westward, without paying any attention to the direction of the current of the Nile, as its boundaries are now defined by its mountains and high shores.

But now the question is: If my hypothesis of the inclination of these parts from E. to W. is generally correct, what has induced the Nile to take a course diverging from it?

I have only to answer to this, that Khartùm already lies considerably lower than our present course; that further up the country, on the left shore, considerable mountains rise towards the W.—for example—those of Kordofàn, which, now at least, do not allow the river to discharge itself from hence into the Libyan deserts. Indeed, many contests and physical revolutions must have occurred before the White Stream crept into its present channel, where it is nearly stagnant, and which seems scarcely natural in so long a tract.

Nov. 30th.—Towards morning we set out with a tolerably good N.E. wind, and soon after sun-rise made four miles[5] an hour; at six o’clock it was 18, and at noon 28 degrees Reaumur. We sailed till eight o’clock, S.W., and passed by a small wooded island, the grassy foreground of which was picturesquely garnished with trees. The prospect on the stream was shut out from us by four islands, through which we passed towards the south, and left them right and left at our side. Among the trees standing in the water were large, white aquatic flowers, visible even at a distance, which glistened forth magnificently from a floating world of flowers, in the moist splendour of the morning. It was the double white Lotus. The sunt-trees stand in full bloom, and appear, in comparison with the others, to have been of later growth, as they stand here still deep in the water.

We approached near the largest of the before-named islands, which is an hour long, and I remarked that it is elevated towards the interior, in the form of a shield; this is not the case with the others. They are long and flat islands, pieces separated from the shore, existing only as long as the wood on their level backs which restrains the pressure of the waves. They are a proof of a yet uncultivated course of the stream, in a deserted freshwater basin. The water still struggles here against the aspiring vegetation. The trees are of slender growth, but of young and fresh appearance; the moist element promotes a rich, exuberant growth, and just as speedy a death, with the usual tropical power of regeneration. In the interior, however, much stronger trees are found. When we sail towards the south, we leave this island on the left, and turn again south-west, where the head (Ras) of a long island ends, and other islands, to the number of seven, shutting out the back-ground from our view, spread here in such a manner, that the stream appears like a regular Island-sound, which can be better seen than described.

The land also to the right of the left shore presents a clearer view, and beyond the downs, are seen the distant and scarcely elevated old shores of the stream, which, however, judging from their whitish colour, do not indicate fertility; and beyond which, indeed, only isolated copsewood and solitary lank trees could find any subsistence, as I remarked also yesterday on the right shore. I would much rather see beech trees and oaks than these eternal mimosas. Oh, thou good Fatherland! in a distant foreign country we first learn to appreciate thee truly!

At twelve o’clock, a wooded island with a long green tail, appeared on our left, and immediately afterwards another on the right, where the wood stands deep in the water; whilst the islands of the right shore almost always show lower vegetation. The landscape being monotonous, I directed my attention more to the scenes on board, and there surely I found variety enough.

Our lieutenant, Abd-Elliab, from Kurdistan, is a very pious man—to our good fortune! for piety restrains him from wine and dram-drinking. This temperance conduces to the tranquillity of the crew, notwithstanding the predominant inclination of my good Feizulla Capitan, who will never rest till he has exhausted my stock of spirituous liquors, so necessary for an European in these countries. Abd-Elliab says that he has not the Koràn in his head, but in his heart; and is of opinion that we Christians have only strayed from the right path, since the prophet Jesus (el Nebi Issa) was created from God without a father, and that Mohammed understood better this divine messenger (Ressùl) than we. He plays the part, also, of a Hakim belèsh (a surgeon who cures gratis) by repeating pious sentences whilst he ties knots in threads, and binds them round the neck and hands of the patient; or, praying, and blessing wheat, he sews it up in little bags as a talisman against fever and the devil. The Captain, besides his master passion, the incentive to which, to my great peace of mind, will be soon exhausted, has also an extremely interesting minor inclination—tailoring and cobbling, which he pretends to have learnt in England.

Our little black female slaves are right to ornament their noses with rings, for without them, their flat noses would be lost in their dark countenance. As usual, the wind almost ceases at noon. We sailed south with a faint north-east breeze, and make scarcely one mile. At half-past twelve we passed a long grass island on the left, the upper part of which was covered with wood; whilst on the right, another one still extends; and on the left, the high grass of a long narrow back of an island rises up from the water. After we had passed five such river meadows, on the right and left, we landed at four o’clock on the right shore. We found ourselves on the island of Aba, eight to nine hours’ long, and proportionably broad, although I had not remarked the commencement of it.

Suliman Kashef was no sooner gone on shore than loud rejoicings, mixed with the sound of citherns and drums, were heard from thence, and I was sent for. Every festivity, whether it consists in public shows, or in singing, dancing, and drinking, is called here also by the word, usual in Egypt, “fantasie.” The proper expression, however, is “faragh” (joy, pleasure). The former is also used to denote a person who is proud and gives himself airs. Therefore the Turkish “fantasie tshok, paraja jok,” means,—where there is much conceit and no money. Such a Fantasie of the first description was taking place on shore, whilst the servants of Suliman Kashef stood round us, armed and fully equipped. Feïzulla-Capitan was obliged to be carried by force on board his vessel, and it was fortunate that he was able, even in this transport, to recognise me. He grasped at sabre and pistol—I pulled him back: he stamped and cuffed around him as if he were mad, till I clapped his head and heels together, threw him on his bed, and held him fast till he had stormed himself tired, as I would take no notice of his English exclamation—“the devil!—stop a little!—look!” No one but myself dared to lay a hand on him. At last he fell asleep, and the sailors called me, among themselves, “Achù el Bennàht,” and praised my conduct, being such as they had never witnessed before.

Yesterday, I gave occasion for drawing upon me the hatred of one of the roughest of the Egyptian sailors, who was sitting with another at the hand-mill, and repeatedly abusing his companion as a “Nazrani” (Christian), until at last the whole crew looked and laughed into my cabin, the captain not being on board at the time. At last I lost my patience, sprang up, and dealt him a hard blow with my fist on the nape of his neck. In his fanatical horror at being struck by a Christian, he attempted to plunge immediately into the water, and vowed revenge against me, as I heard from my servants.

Now, while Feïzulla Capitan lies senseless, I see from my bed this long sailor leave the fore-part of the ship, and approach our cabin, followed by the looks of the rest of the crew. From a fanatic who might put his own construction on the friendly scene I had just had with Feïzulla Capitan, and might use it in his own favour, I had everything to expect. He paused, however, at the door, apologized and thanked me, for not having reported him to his commander. He then kissed my right hand, whilst, in my left, I held a pistol concealed under the covering of the bed.

The Island of Aba does not appear to be entirely inundated, and therefore, it is covered towards the interior with high grown wood. It is said, that there are several lions here; I think I saw one at a distance, but I did not pursue him. We saw large flocks of guinea-fowls, called here Gedàt el Pharaùn (Pharaoh’s fowls), and which provided us for some days with roast dainties. “Pharaùn” is a word of abuse, but it must have been taken rather from the Koràn than from tradition. I saw many foot-prints of Hippopotami in the muddy roads, which extend from the East westerly to the river, and were already dried up. The earth by that means was exceedingly fertile. Doghen, a kind of corn, commonly used in Kordofan,—bamie, a vegetable with pods, to be met with from hence up to Greece;—and Malochië, a species of spinnage, grow wild here. The numerous birds were very shy, which we attribute to our white dress and red caps.

1st December.—Half an hour before sun rise, we left the Island of Aba, and sailed E.S.E., and had a course of 2¼ miles; in the lapse of an hour this island was on our left. At half past eight o’clock, we had on our right an island, and on the left the shore was bare,—a Steppe, with a few trees and copsewood. The ground beyond and through the trees glimmered, equally bare and waste, of a yellow colour. This eternal shifting of the islands, and winding of the vessel, frequently perverts the look and the prospect of the whole scenery. The Lotus,—the grass extending itself over the water,—and the high reed grass, filled the space between the trees. At nine o’clock S.S.W., we pass the Machada Abu Seïd, before which we have a course of 4½ miles, and immediately afterwards only 3 miles. At this place, where the stream, owing to the rocks crossing from E. to W. forms an inconsiderable current, the water is only 1½ to 2 fathoms deep, and when low, reaches only up to the knee,—a circumstance which must be taken into account for our return voyage. Machada Abu Seïd, is equivalent to “Ford of Abu Seïd,” who, being the patron of navigators, is invoked on the most trivial occasions, like Abd el Kader, by the Bedouins of the desert. It is pretended that this same Abu Seïd crossed the water with his large army, and subdued the people of this place; many stories are also told of him, how he has assisted navigators in their need.

Above this ford or reef, on which entire masses of the Etheria tubifera (Caill) have settled, we passed over the Machada el Ans, which means “Goat’s Ford;” because, in the dry season of the year, even goats can walk through here, when they are thrown by the herdsmen into the water, from one rock to the other.

The lead gives four and a half fathoms between these two Machadas, the log four miles and a half, and the river has one mile in rapidity. Small grassy island tracts extend to the left side of the Nile; and many more islands might, in this manner, continually rise through the gradual alluvial deposits. The trees are generally of the dwarf species; and there are only solitary higher ones, which overtop the others, and have withstood the winds, by reason of the soil being moistened continually by water. A number of scattered water-plants form floating islands of large and small dimensions, frequently presenting quite a surprizing appearance. At noon we came so close to such an island, which had been held together by a kind of water couch-grass, and was joined on to the shore, that we tore off one entire portion of it, and set it moving like a little aquatic world of the most diversified description of plants. The base of this floating vegetable world was formed by the pale green velvet-plant everywhere met with, and which spreads itself like the auricula, has fibrous roots, and is intermixed with green reeds, but appears to have no flowers. The stalk-like moss, spreading under the water, with slender white suckers, like polypi, on the long streaks beneath, was another principal ingredient in the formation of this island. Then comes a kind of convolvulus, with lilac-coloured flowers, with its seeds, like those of the convolvulus, in capsule-like knobs, and leaves like those of buttercups.

The character of the whole of this island world acquires such a blooming appearance here, that one believes oneself transported to a gigantic park situated under water. Entire tracts are covered with the blooming lotus. The trees, shrubs, and creepers, with their manifold flowers, enjoy a freedom unknown in Europe, where every plant is restricted to its fixed season. The life, buds, and bursting into development of the different plants appear to be arbitrary, for rain, water, and the height, depth, and quality of the soil have such effect, that the very same species often display entirely different stages of progression. From the tall dark mimosas, and other trees, down to the waving reeds, and the spikes of the high grass shooting out of the water, a vegetable life spreads with a freshness and fulness bordering on the marvellous. The splendid leaf-like webs of lianias form hills of flowers with garlands, and wave and shine afar in various colours, like magnificent hanging tapestry.

MOUNT N’JEMATI, APRIL 13, 1841.

It is a strangely beautiful sight to see these exuberant plants, sparkling in various colours, keeping down the more sturdy ones. However, on our voyage back, the scene had so altered, that it was with difficulty we could persuade ourselves that here it was so wonderfully beautiful before. Together with the various species of convolvulus, the blooming ambak-tree contributed to enhance the variety of flowers. The Arabs call it ambak, although they are only acquainted with its dry light wood, which floats down to them. The tree grows only in the river itself, or in a swamp, and when the water recedes, dies away to the root. The rapidity of its growth surpasses that of the rising of the Nile, and shoots up from ten to fifteen feet above its highest water-mark. It rises in a conical form out of the water, but decreases again towards the root, and is, in the middle, as thick as a strong man’s arm. The wood is throughout of a spongy nature, and can be called only fibrous pith: it is overlaid with a dark green rind, which is also furnished with a rough brownish hue and small imperceptible arcuated thorns. The branches fix themselves on luxuriant soil, like the acacias with us, and towards the ends are quite green and rough; the leaves are twinned like those of the acacia; the foliage is full of sap and green like reeds. The yellow bean-flower grows single, but in great profusion; it is an inch and a half long and broad, and has ten stamina round the pistil.

The top of a mountain, of which, at the moment, I could learn no other name than that of Geb’l Dinka, rose, about nine o’clock, to the S.S.W. This was a welcome sight to me, as it seemed to promise, from the distance, something more magnificent than the hills, or would-be mountains, that had hitherto appeared in the horizon. We make four miles and a half, and the rapidity of the stream still remains one mile, although the water before this Machada seems to have no fall, and only to be set in motion by the pressure from above. At two o’clock we had on the left, towards the east, Geb’l Dinka, so termed by navigators, but more correctly called Geb’l N’jemati, which is said to denote a group of mountain tops. Two rocky ridges especially project, and seem to belong to the granite formation.

The thermometer was, at sunrise, 18°, at noon, 26°, and from three to five o’clock 28°, Reaumur. The flower island continues on the right and left, and we have four miles course. The grass and reed tract of islands appears on the left shore like pasture-ground, closed by shady trees in the distant background. At six o’clock, sunrise, we sailed past the mountain of the Dinkas, which I was glad I had delineated before, for it presented here nothing picturesque. The people of the Dinkas (sing. Dinkauï) were not to be seen, because they had betaken themselves to the interior, to sow their fields with durra and dòghen. These fields are said to lie in the Chaba; and it seems probable to me that this forest is situated in a basin, as in Taka, wherein the rain and effusion of mountain-streams must be long retained, because otherwise the land would be too dry for sowing; or the inundation of the Nile seizes those partially, on old beds of the river, which have been dammed up on the lower side, and would therefore be dried up if there were no effusion of water.

At some distance from us I was shewn tops of trees, which were scarcely perceptible, marking the island of the late great Sheikh, or Mek Abdurachman (Abd el Rahman), who was a chief of the Shilluks (sing. Shilkaui), and a sworn enemy to the Arabian intruders. On the former expedition, Suliman Kashef, who had made the acquaintance of this dreaded chief, and had lost many men by his predatory expeditions, wanted to convince himself whether he was really dead; and, in the savageness of his heart, ordered the body to be dug up, in order that he might convince himself of the fact. They were all not a little rejoiced at finding the truth confirmed.

Darkness prevented us from distinguishing the complication of islands which were still continuing. We lay to about eleven o’clock at Ambak, an island towards the left shore; and the sails being clewed, we make only two miles and a half in the hour, in order to wait for the Sandal, which was behind-hand. Immediately close to or down by these trees, we had four fathoms in depth; and yet they stood some fifteen feet above the water, which extraordinary height they are said to attain in one year, for they fall down and wither away when the water recedes.

Towards evening, a hippopotamus bellowed from the reeds quite close to us. An old sailor, partaking of the superstition which I have already mentioned, bid him immediately “Salam aleikum” (peace be with thee), but he answered not a word; whereupon a peculiar silence reigned among the crew, who believe in a possible voluntary or involuntary transformation into beasts by sorcery.

2nd December.—We set sail before sunrise, towards S.S.W. The rocks of N’jemati lie to the N.N.E. of us, and on the left a mountain elevates itself to the S.S.E. at about six hours’ distance. We soon made three miles and a quarter, and from eight o’clock four and a quarter, and the breadth of the river was generally estimated at two miles. Near the reed or marshy islands, a kind of meadow cat’s-tail grass is prevalent, having a broad flat blade of bright green, in the middle of which runs a white streak lengthways. This grass has thick connecting tubes, from which the fibrous roots depend. The stalk, which is the thickness of a thumb, rises, with knots, to the height of four to five feet, and is surrounded with numerous brown leaves, completely inclosing it. It has ears like wheat, growing in a bunch to the number of five or six, containing grain, which is eaten by the people. It might be called the low-reed, from which the high-reed is distinguished by rising to a height of ten to twelve feet, and having straight knotty stalks, the thickness of a finger, narrow leaves, and on the top a cluster of leaves, from which large bulrush ears project, the seeds of which are scarcely perceptible. Close to this grows the luxuriant water couch-grass, with drooping blades the breadth of a finger, having a delicate blue hue; and a dark green aquatic grass, with narrow horizontal blades, from which branches a rush-like crown of seeds.

Feïzulla Capitan has, at last, entirely exhausted, not only his own, but also my stock of spirituous liquors, which he used to partake of in his debauch, as if they had been his own property. His days of atonement have therefore commenced; he takes the Koràn with a long face, and puts on the airs of a great Faki, on account of which Suliman Kashef calls him Hodshà. The great Paradise-Stormer, from Kurdistan, listens to him with profound devotion, and corrects him very zealously, for he really seems to know the whole Koran by heart.

After eight o’clock, a large reed island appeared on our left. Floating couch-grass islands, covered with the pale green aquatic plants so frequently seen, meet us, and often draw a ship round with them. The current of the water may separate these islands from the shore, and disconnect them from the lake; or storms, and the mighty inhabitants of the stream, when they are forcing roads with their corporeal masses, may cut them off and set them in motion. At ten o’clock, for the first time, on the right shore, Sunt appears on an island with all kinds of shrubs and grasses, and the aquatic acacia Ambak. The country on the banks of the Nile consist of, at the same time, a broad pasture-land, with young high grass, whilst the breadth of the river here is an hour. Towards the South an endless channel disclosed itself, in which the water vanished by degrees with the horizon,—a sight which we had not yet seen on the white stream, and which was very much desired to define the latitude and longitude. On the left, also, approached an island with the before-named characteristics. I conclude, however, from the height of some Sunt-trees, that it had firmer ground towards the interior, although its beautiful flowering margin displays, as it were, floating hills of flowers over the copsewood, with their tendrils and grasses. At eleven o’clock, the log gave four miles and a half, and at twelve o’clock we were obliged, from want of wind, to lay-to at an Ambak-island. The wind returned, however, after a short time, and we sailed through a sea of green grass or reeds, where we saw over the extensive gently rising right shore a large city of the Dinkas, though we were not able to approach, owing to the reeds.

The Dinkas were seen at a distance, jumping in the air whilst they raised one arm, and struck their shields with their spears. This appeared to me rather a challenge than an expression of joy, as I concluded from the war-dances, the representation of which I had before witnessed. Their city is said to stretch far beyond this ridge, which the trees prevented us from remarking. Long swampy islands, with reeds and other plants, entwined one with the other, extend from their country to the middle of the stream. This is the case also, though on a reduced scale, on the left side. The distance of the shores from one to another is more than an hour. The reeds form in this manner a protection, which even when the water is at the highest is not to be overcome; just as at low water the Machadas form such a defensive barrier. In the same manner the Shilluks on the left shore have a marsh of reeds, under water, for protection. The Turks have managed, however, to come at these two nations by land. Suliman Kashef himself has twice defeated the Shilluks on the boundary of his district. These sudden and crafty attacks of a Chasua cannot, however, be called wars or battles. The animosity of these people to the Arabian hordes and marauding system goes so far, for example, that when they take a Bakhàra prisoner, they beat him to death with cudgels, death by the Harba (spear) being considered too honourable. On the contrary, they do not kill the Dinkas whom they may take captive, because they consider them as aborigines and old neighbours. The Arabs, however, do not slay the Shilluks taken prisoners by them, not so much out of respect to the Koràn, as from their inherent selfishness. When the Bakhàras come to the river to graze the cattle in the grass, which, after the reeds have been burnt away, contains nourishing fodder, there are continual petty wars between the Shilluks and Bakhàras, in which the latter display considerable bravery, as Suliman Kashef himself admits.

At three o’clock in the afternoon, we continue to sail towards the South in this immeasurable tract of water. On the right and left are partly grass islands, and partly reedy marshes, which join on to the shore, and must, when the water is higher, before the overflowed vegetation has yet made its way to the surface, form a regular long lake or gigantic stream. After four o’clock we landed on the right shore, where the white lotus was distinguished in the pools amongst the trees, with far larger flowers than is the case where neither shrub nor tree shelters it from the sun. The blue lotus (Nymphæa cærulea) called Loss by the Nubas and Baràbras, appears no longer here. On the left shore the smoke of signal-fires, certainly the most ancient kind of telegraph, ascended on all sides. At six o’clock we sailed again, and halted at a quarter past ten, just as the moon went down. A soldier plunged into the water and sank as he was about to touch land, probably seized by a crocodile. At sun-rise 18°, noon 26°, evening 24°, and after midnight, in the open air, 17° Reaumur.

3rd December.—Half an hour before sun-rise we proceeded, with a due North wind, towards the South. It was sensibly cold, though we had 16 degrees of Reaumur. Low and marshy land again at the side,—partly islands before the shores, properly speaking, the elevation of which was scarcely perceptible on the left side of the river. We had seen yesterday and the day before a few solitary tamarinds. Now they were very abundant, and the various shades of light and dark green of these beautiful trees, with their luxuriant foliage, cause a delightful sensation. Their fruit, so grateful in these parts, with its agreeable tartness, the first and last means of support of the Ethiopians, is called in the land of Sudàn, Aradepp; but in Egypt, Tammer-el Hendi (fruit of India); which seems to indicate no very great commercial intercourse between the Egyptians and Ethiopians. So also the rich gum-trees of these parts, from which the ancients derived equally little towards their immeasurable consumption of gum and resin, have first been used for the purposes of commerce in more modern times. From nine to ten we advanced four or five miles. The right shore a magnificent low country. Tamarinds, creepers of a large species, and the lotus shining in great numbers, like double white lilies. This stellated flower opens with the rising of the sun, and closes when it sets. I noticed, however, afterwards, that where they are not protected in some way from the ardent heat, they likewise close when the sun approaches the zenith. Some of their stalks were six feet long, and very porous; from which latter quality these stems, as well as the flower and the larger leaves—dark green above, and red-brown beneath, with a flat serrated border,—have a magnificent transparent vein; but become so shrivelled, even during the damp night, that in the morning I scarcely recognised those which I had over night laid close to my bed on the shore. The ancient Egyptians must, therefore, have been quick in offering up the lotus. The flower peeps out, however, only a little above the water, and the fruit sinks downwards, either from natural inclination, or from the weakness of the stalk, because the water, by the formation of it, has already fallen. The flower has above twenty tapering white leaves, arranged around a calix of a yellow gold colour, which is similar to that of the Nymphæa in our millponds. The fillet, from one and a half to three inches in diameter, is like a compressed poppy-head, and ring-like incisions extend from its imperceptible corolla to the stalk. The extraordinarily small white seed lies in a brownish, wool-like envelope, and fills the whole capsule. Not only are the bulbs, as large as one’s fist, of the lotus eaten, but also the seed just mentioned; they mix it with sesame, and other grain, amongst the bread-corn, which circumstance I ascertained afterwards, as we found a number of these lotus-heads strung in lines to dry. To our taste, the best way to dress the bulbs, and to free them from the marshy flavour they leave behind in the mouth, is to drain the water off several times in cooking them; they then taste nearly like boiled celery, and may be very nourishing; but I would not be a Lotophagus here, for I had much rather eat potatoes with their jackets on. Although there are a number of bulbous plants in these parts, serving for food to the natives, (specimens of which I collected, but they were spoiled for want of earthen vessels to keep them in,) yet potatoes might not thrive here any more than in Egypt, which is far colder, as they would become watery, by the continual irrigation, this being the case even with the grasses.

We sail S.S.W., make four to five miles, and have on the right hand grass marsh-islands. The expanse of water before us is limited only by a tree; to the left also of the right shore, a small ridge of heights displays itself, which may be considered as isolated alluvial deposits of downs. Nevertheless, it is sufficiently clear to me, that it is almost impossible to make an accurate map from a single voyage; this seems to have struck also the very learned Arnaud, for he is always consulting Selim-Capitan. Sabatier is ill, and the task therefore devolved on Arnaud, not only of observing the course of the river, but also the direction, beginning and end of the islands, &c., and all this with the windows hung with curtains! He may find out that the vessel is continually changing its course, but he could scarcely in this manner make a map of the stream, even if an air-balloon were placed at his disposal.

Twelve o’clock, five miles, 22°, and at three o’clock, 26° Reaumur. On the left shore, close to us, is the hill of Giràb el Esh, (sack of corn), which name has also been given to a Sheikh of the Shilluks living there, to denote his corpulence, a very rare thing in that country. We were pretty close to the right shore, the extreme edge of which rises some three feet above the still high water. The earth is dark, and here occurs the first precipitous shore we have seen on the white stream. The marshy world springing luxuriantly on the left shore, checking the stream, appears to press the current to the right side of the river, and by that means the water is always deeper next to the latter side. Marshes, with the usual phenomena, soon shew themselves again in the primitive bed, properly speaking, of the stream, so that we were forced again into serpentine windings.

On the right shore, close to the mountain which we had seen on the 2nd of December, at sunrise, and which is the Defafaungh so much spoken of in Sudàn, high dome-palms, with small heads, rise over the tamarind-trees. The mountain itself is bare and rocky, and, except one precipice, descends towards the river without any steep declivity. So likewise the mountains we had hitherto seen had always a gentle descent towards the stream, a proof that the waters have not here undermined or compressed the ribs of the mountains towards the river, as is the case in Nubia and on the Rhine. Defafaungh stands there alone, like the mountains Taka, an island, as it were, in an extensive and dry basin.

At noon we sailed past the rocky hill, four or five hundred feet high, and went W.S.W. without my having seen through the telescope the ruins and pyramids (Taralib) of brick (Top ahmer), supposed to be there. At all events, I shall take care to lie to here on our return voyage. Soon after appeared, on the left shore, a hamlet consisting of about twenty huts, shaped of bee-hives. The people did not shew themselves, because the good name of the Turks has spread even thus far. The mountain is seen, from the raised deck of the cabin, rising in the landscape; and we perceive a grassy marsh-island extending from the right shore, in the form of an arch, into the river, and forcing it into a direction W.S.W. In this inlet lies the village I have mentioned, and immediately afterwards a second one. Suliman Kashef had spied out something with his eagle eyes: he went ashore to seize some sheep, whilst shots were fired in the air to frighten the owners. We all followed his good example.

At five o’clock we sailed from hence W., and then W.N.W.; made three miles, and followed the course of the river to S.W. As the sun sets, we seem to sail through a blooming park. On the right shore are isolated dark tamarinds, shining like gold, magnificent masses of creepers, and bowers of flowers on a green, grass ground, the blooming lotus shining through them. We extend our gaze across this island over the country, on the right shore, and perceive only a few tamarinds. The sun having already set, we turn to W.N.W. The sky, somewhat clouded, throws splendid masses of shadow, completing the charming landscape, upon the island, round which the ships moved in a line, grazing its cheerful verdure. On the right shore the interior country is somewhat elevated, a circumstance which we noticed at the abovenamed rocks. Whilst our vessel sails N.W., the others before us double the bend of the left shore; towards the S.

Night appears; the river turns again N.W., and the north wind, though scarcely blowing, drives us towards the left, against a vessel, strenuous rowing being unable to prevent this misfortune. Contention between soldiers and sailors: no subordination, no nautical skill. The ships strike every moment one against the other; then follows an intolerable running here and there of the crew—pushing, throwing down, hoisting, and bawling; in short, a frightful hurly-burly, because one wants to sail before the other; and my indifferent tailor-captain remains quietly at his labour, and sews so much the more industriously! The Kurd Abdu Elliàb gives himself airs in vain; although he had told me shortly before this, that no officer in the whole regiment was so feared as himself, yet the soldiers will not listen to him, but fight with the sailors. I, for my part, can do nothing since Feizulla Capitan, who had nominated me, in his absence, as his Wakil (deputy), was on board. At last we proceeded again till twelve o’clock at night.

4th December.—An hour before sunrise, we advanced, with a N.E. wind, S.S.W., without sails; halted here and there to wait for two ships tarrying behind, which had run upon the very shallow ground on the right side of the river, and were obliged to put back in order to get into the course of the stream; it was 15° Reaumur: from nine to towards eleven o’clock S.W. On the right two villages, with huts like beehives, at which we saw three Sürtuks (periaguas) raised on a tree. In the forest we perceive many Shilluks, who seem to look upon us as neither enemies nor as friends. Immediately above this we lay-to at the left shore, to wait for the two ships which we now saw at a distance. There are no sunt-trees here; on the contrary, several luxurious tamarinds, which thrive in a damp soil. The Nile is at this place more than two hours’ broad, including the Grass Islands. At twelve o’clock, again towards the W., then W.N.W., and at 1 o’clock S.W., which direction we followed till sunset at six o’clock in the evening, and with a very faint breeze.

On the right shore the more elevated land was planted with isolated dark green tamarinds, a lively contrast to the blue sky; the left displayed at a distance a bare high shore, on the margin of which stood a few trees, and before them a grassy sea extended, so that the river has, with this, a breadth of an hour and a half. The rapidity of the stream was so inconsiderable here, that the log gave no result. A shining, white, water-road lay before us; yet, from a calm having set in, we could only advance but slightly with rowing. The venomous gnats which, as well as large camel-flies and small wasps, have made their appearance these three days, become more abundant, and are said to be found in such quantities further south, that we shall neither be able to eat, drink, nor sleep.

CHAPTER V.

A STORM. — TOKULS OR HUTS OF THE SHILLUKS. — THE TALLE, A SPECIES OF MIMOSA. — THE GEÏLID. — THE BAMIE. — UEKA. — WILD RICE. — OMMOS. — THE SHILLUKS A LARGER NATION THAN THE FRENCH! — IMMENSE POPULATION ON THE BANKS OF THE WHITE ARM OF THE NILE. — THE HABAS OR FORESTS. — A TURKISH JEST! — LEECHES. — DISEMBARKATION ON THE LAND OF THE SHILLUKS. — DESCRIPTION OF THE TOKULS. — CONDUCT OF THE BEDOUINS TOWARDS THE PILGRIMS TO MECCA. — THE MURHAKA. — MANNER OF CATCHING GAZELLES. — SÜRTUKS OR CANOES OF THE SHILLUKS. — REFUSAL OF THE KING OF THIS NATION TO VISIT THE VESSELS. — TREATMENT OF HIS AMBASSADORS AT KHARTUM. — THE BAOBAB TREE. — DHELLEB PALMS. — WINDINGS OF THE RIVER. — OSTRICHES. — HILLS OF ASHES OF THE DINKAS. — RIVER SOBAB.

5th December.—We had cast anchor yesterday evening in the middle of the river, partly to prevent our being surprised by the natives, and partly because landing was impossible, for the shores were a mere swamp far and wide. The calm continued during night; but, before daybreak, such a storm suddenly set in, that the ships, dragging after them the anchors, were slung round, and ran one against the other, when abuse and blustering on the side of the captain as well as of the crew vied even with the tempest. It was fortunate that the morning broke, and that the Habùb changed into a good N.E. wind, enabling us, for the first time, to make six miles in the hour. The depth of water was in the night five fathoms and a half, and the rapidity of the river half a mile. The ships presented a beautiful sight on the smooth water territory, which, being of a dazzling purple colour, from the reflection of the clouds driving from the north, drew them along like two mighty serpents through a green sea of floating grass.

At six o’clock this morning, several villages were seen on the left shore in the land of the Shilluks. I counted twelve or fifteen close to one another; and in half an hour afterwards again eighteen or twenty, the last of which we passed about nine o’clock. We have still six miles to make, and go W.S.W. for a short time; then again in the main direction of S.W., where groups of Tokuls, joined to one another, continue on the left shore, and lie on the old bank of the river. The Arabs say that this is the capital of the Shilluks, and is called Dennap. The latter word means, however, the tail of an animal, and is therefore applied by them to the length of the row of Tokuls, as being analogous, although the name, properly speaking, is Kak. The structure of the huts is the same as that of the Tokuls in Beled-Sudán, with this difference, that the roofs are not conical, but arched.

Now, at ten o’clock, whilst the river is winding towards the south, I remark, on the left shore, at about an hour and a half distant, a large village, connected probably with the others, which are concealed only by trees. Before it lies an extensive marshy meadow-land. On the right shore is displayed a yellow line of the dry high grass, because, owing to its height, the shore here is less exposed to inundations. The channel of the river receives through this course of the genuine shore an enlargement scarcely to be defined, whilst the trees of the old left bank extend in a narrow close line, which, at this moment, (half-past six o’clock,) is certainly two hours long. The right shore continues flat, and forms, like the left, an immeasurable grassy sea, the limits of which cannot be distinguished even from the highest point of the vessel; for the isolated yellow tracks, though almost imperceptible, may be likewise little fertile elevations in the marsh land, tamarinds being scattered right and left. The stream covering all these grasses, which are but of young growth, must have formed here, therefore, a short time ago, a regular lake.

In the low ground lying close to the river, which the tamarinds I saw yesterday shew to be dark marsh ground, I, for the first time, examined closely, a kind of mimosa, called talle, distinguished by its reddish rind from the whitish rind of the tamarind, the boughs of which are twisted nearly like those of oaks. The rind of the talle-tree is used like that of the geïlid, to be burnt as a perfume: a little also, grated, and strewn on the merissa, gives it a piquant flavour. The geïlid is in its whole form like the pear-tree, only its leaves are smaller, and the esculent fruit is similar to an olive.

Towards eleven o’clock we sailed S.E. On the left hand a regular lotus-sea extended to the right shore. The lotus must, no doubt, have once existed in Egypt in similar exuberance amongst analogous circumstances of marshy soil, before it could have been reckoned among the means of subsistence. The yellow colour which I at first took for dry reeds, proceeded from the dry stalks of the bamie (called Uèka), which cover the land, elevated about four feet on the right shore, to an immeasurable distance, and suffer no other plants to rise among them, as they grow quite close. The fruit, here very small and rough, had, without being gathered, burst altogether from the husks. At noon we proceeded Eastward, and the N.E. wind drove some of the vessels into the stream towards the shore on the other side, so that we were obliged to have recourse to towing; then arose the usual contention about precedence.

At one o’clock we lay-to at the Bamien shore. The soil is tolerably good, and black, though strongly mixed with sand; and the few geïlid trees upon it have acquired an unwonted strength. Numerous nests of sparrows and finches were perched on the dry stalks of the bamie, and feed on its seeds. This uèka is plucked whilst green, cut through, and dried, ground fine in the hand-mill (Murhàka), and serves throughout the country for broth to the farinaceous food. There were four villages in our neighbourhood, and we observed palms at about an hour distant.

At two o’clock we left this place, and had recourse again to Libàhn, however unwillingly the crew betook themselves to this towing. Further on we descried villages, and as far as the eye could reach, the land was all covered with uèka, fields of which sloped with a gentle descent to the river, though the young plants had been invisible, till the present time, upon the parts already dry. It does not appear to me probable that these fields have been sown by the hand of man, for otherwise the old stalks would have been removed, unless they are left to protect the young plants from the heat of the sun, till they are able to cover the ground with their own foliage; for artificial irrigation is not to be thought of here. The Dinkas, who inhabit these regions, as well as the Shilluks, on the left shore, besides living on corn (Durra and Doghen), feed on the fruit of the geïlid, frequently met with here, and on the seeds of the various species of high grass, denominated, so significantly, “Children of Grass” (Genna el Gesh), to which also a kind of wild rice (Rus Suhillkai) belongs. They also feed on cattle, sheep, and goats, and do not despise the flesh of the crocodile, or the hippopotamus.

In the afternoon our course was generally S.E. From the deck two rivers are seen, which join and separate, whilst meandering through the indefinitely extended green grass lake. At five o’clock we directed our course W.S.W., and the lingering north wind setting in, allowed us to make use of our sails. The wild bamies still continue, intermixed here and there with Ommòs (Italian Ceci), a sweet fruit, with a pod, much liked in Egypt. On the right shore, otherwise bare, we see here and there a tree, and an arm of the stream stretches far into the land.

Towards sunset the sky was somewhat clouded, but so much the more magnificent appeared the broad tranquil river, expanding before us, and in which our ships were reflected, as in a mirror, whilst solitary small islands floated around us in all the lustre of green and gold. The left shore is covered with trees, and the horizon bounded by solitary huts. We halt when it becomes calm; but at my persuasion, take to our oars till we come up to Suliman Kashef’s vessel. About nine o’clock we sail S.W. with the N.E. wind blowing up, and make, up to half-past one o’clock, three miles in the hour. Southwards till the evening. Depth of the stream, in the middle of which we anchored, four fathoms.

6th December.—At day-break S.W. by S., five miles. At some distance from the left shore villages, said to continue in an unbroken line, on account of which the Kurd thinks that the Shilluks are a larger nation than the French. An enormous meadow land lies in the water before the river’s edge, upon which tokuls are observed, at not quite an hour’s distance, called Biut (from Beit-House), because these huts, as it is said, are somewhat different in form from those commonly met with in the land of Sudàn. The right shore joins the horizon in a wide creek, and approaches us again at half-past eight o’clock, when we are sailing S.W., whilst the villages on the deserted ancient shores, extend from west to south. The large villages of the Dinkas appear now on the right bank, with a marshy foreground of three quarters of an hour in breadth, having a very monotonous appearance, and being almost without a tree. Opposite lie two large villages, honoured with the name of Helle (City), upon gently elevated downs, in an elliptical arch. The larger city may contain about one hundred tokuls, and is said, according to Selim Capitan, to be called Minianàk. Immediately afterwards four other villages appeared; the projecting wood did not permit us to discover any others that there might have been. The bare shore of the Dinkas is enlivened by six large villages, and a seventh appeared on the horizon S.S.W.: they lie an hour and a half distant from the water, and certainly the enormous Bamian field, by its slightly undulating form, concealed from our sight yesterday many villages. Here also, as among the Shilluks, it is said that Helles join one to the other in a line, for the space of several days’ journey. Four miles course, and half a mile the rapidity of the current. The villages on the right shore lie generally higher than those on the left.

There is certainly no river in the world the shores of which are, for so great a distance, so uninterruptedly covered with habitations of human beings. We cannot conceive whence so many people derive their nourishment. There are some negroes on the left shore, lying without any clothing on them, in the grass; therefore the ground cannot be covered to any height with water. They made gestures, and greeted us with uplifted arms; but our people thought that we could not trust such a friendly welcoming, for they might have concealed their spears in the grass, in which, perhaps, a whole troop of men were hidden.

Neither these Shilluks nor the Jengähs, up the river, possess horses or camels, but merely sheep and cows. When they take a horse or camel from the Turks, they do not kill it—probably not eating the flesh of these animals,—but put out its eyes as a punishment for having brought the enemy into their country. Those animals, being introduced from Asia, may indeed, with difficulty, withstand the marshy nature of this land, as may be inferred from what usually takes place in Taka, where, on account of their great mortality during the damp season, they are driven to the more elevated parts (Gallas). Whether a kind of animal worship lies under their not killing these beasts, I do not venture to determine. Towards the south the shores contract, and the villages also approach nearer to the river.

At half-past nine o’clock the left bank, close at hand, presented a real forest of tamarinds, which also traverses the lower covered pasture-land, or follows, in an irregular form, the newer line of the shore, caused by the descent of the stream. An incredible number of birds appear on all sides; these airy attendants of the marshes devour terrestrial animals, which perish through the overflow of water, and would otherwise entirely poison the air, as in Egypt. The trees, standing singly, are, for the most part, quite white, from the excrement of the birds, and naturally die away. On the old undulating left shore are as many as eight villages; to the left hand, two long rows of the peaks of tokuls, distant, perhaps, about two hours’ journey; those on the right hand being half an hour from our course. The old banks, however, do not come close to the river, as we at first thought, but appear to have their main direction towards S.W. The stream winds in two arms through the grass, marshy meadow-land, which is at least two hours’ in breadth, and seems once to have formed the bed of the primitive stream. The right shore is bare, without trees, and possibly, from its higher situation, prevents the Nile from producing any green land. On the contrary, we see in the hollow on the right hand, five or six heads of palms, appearing to be dome-palms.

About twelve o’clock, we remark in the bare horizon, on the left hand, nine villages of the Dinkas; and on the right, immediately behind the trees of the low country, generally on a level with the river, only raised here and there, seven villages of the Shilluks, on the borders of the green vegetation lying in front of them. The meadows before these villages are skirted indeed by trees, but between them, and in the background, no vegetation, except copsewood on parched grass-land, is discerned; whereas on the right shore, where the villages may be from two to two hours’ and a half from us, not a tree is to be seen on the enormous grass plain,—not even near the huts themselves. We sail S.W., half-past twelve o’clock, where to the right of the left shore, some groups of huts extend in a bamien field, which is already parched, and bounded in the back-ground by trees in full verdure. When the inundation takes place, it is impossible that these huts can be inhabited, from their low situation. An island, with two hills, extends to the right side of the shore.

Whilst Suliman Kashef’s vessel was making a bend before us, in order to sail on the other side, Feïzulla Capitan, who was standing aloft, on the cabin, determined to keep on his course. Suliman Kashef no sooner remarks this, than he sends two shots at Feïzulla Capitan, so close that I myself, who was standing before the door of the cabin, heard the balls whistle. The latter remained quietly standing, although, according to his own assertion, as well as that of the sailors who were aloft repairing the sails, the balls flew by within a hand’s breadth of his head: he merely said, “Malesh—hue billàb” (it is nothing—he is jesting). Feïzulla also shot twice; pointing, however, the gun in an opposite direction, that so Suliman Kashef might see that he took the friendly greeting as a Turkish joke, and being a bad shot did not dare to aim at him.

On the left side of the river, six small villages, of from twenty to fifty huts, between groves of sunt-wood; at the right side, in the distant horizon, ten villages, some of them long and large, and having treeless, immeasurable, Nile-meadows before them. We see also now on the left shore, behind the trees, habitations as far as which the water appears to reach. Therefore the river, including the marshes under water, which are its limits, must be at least three hours’ broad. The villages denoting best the direction of the old shore, and between which the present stream arbitrarily winds, extend now (about two o’clock) from east to west. We counted in the space of an hour, seventeen large and small villages.

We sail S.S.E. into an arm of the Nile, which continues to become narrower, and where we at last stick fast on the grass, for it contracted itself to the length of our bark. Happily the river here is not so deep but that we could make use of our long poles, whilst the wind helped us, in some measure, to break through this short passage. We did this in order to gain a wider arm in W.S.W. and S.W., wherein the principal stream seems to flow, the water, shortly before, being entirely stagnant. The sailors, who had jumped into the water on this little error in our course, came again on board with leeches sticking to their bodies, the first and only ones I have seen in the land of Sudàn.

A calm set in; but towing on ground of such a nature was not to be thought of. Besides, we had no wood, so we landed in the country of the Shilluks, near large sunt-trees; amongst them one was distinguished by a circumference of fifteen feet. Some houses lay there upon a low island, still surrounded with water, from which the people had fled; we found in one of them a dog, which I protected from the wanton cruelty of the crew, by laying claim to him as my property. This faithful beast was of the shepherd-dog breed, similar to those seen in Turkey. The tokuls have the already-mentioned arched roofs of meadow-grass (called Halfa), and their walls are of reeds and poles, as thick as a man’s arm, and plastered inside and out with a clay-like under layer of the Nile slime. It appears that they try to harden this circular wall before placing on the roof, by a large fire lighted in the interior, as is the custom also in the mountains near Fàzogl, for the walls displayed an extraordinary solidity, considering they were of burnt clay. The door is an oval hole, through which we stooped to enter, and it is also of good service when poking such a fire. We found here several household utensils, none of which I ventured to lay claim to, although they could have no other value for the people than that of momentary use. My three servants no sooner remarked that I was pleased with these things, than, laughing at my scrupulous conscience towards these “Abit,” they stole some of the utensils behind my back, whilst we were sitting and eating together, and carried them to the ships. They said afterwards that the Shilluks must have left these things lying in their houses for us to take them. On this excuse, I remembered what the Bedouins (Beduàn, sing. Bedaùi) did, when Mohammed Ali forbade them to take tribute from the pilgrims travelling to Jerusalem and Mecca; they forced the pilgrims to drop upon the ground as much money as they thought sufficient, and then, pretending to find it after the caravan had passed, took possession of it.

Besides some pretty platted mats, we found here larger and more beautiful clay vessels, in the form of the Burma, than in Sennaar. They were extraordinarily light, and of a black colour, for the slimy clay there, piled up in strata, and kneaded together into balls, as thick as the fist, displayed a dark colour, and must undergo an excessive cleansing before being used for that purpose. As there are no stones here, between which meal can be ground, they make use of a murhàka of clay, a plate three or four fingers thick, blunted at the four corners, having a rough, solid crust, and on which they grind their corn off hand with an artificial stone. In the land of Sudan they use for a murhàka a block of granite, presenting above a flat surface, so that the corn poured on it, by handfuls, rolls off neither to the right nor to the left. A female slave kneeling triturates the corn to a meal, with an oval stone, which she holds in both hands. From the sloping position of the granite block, this meal runs off, and is received in a piece of leather or cloth, laid under this simple mill. I saw a Murhàka of this form in the Museum at Berlin. These last-mentioned stones are found on the Island of Rügen, and have a hole in the middle, owing to the continual rubbing, exactly as we see in Inner Africa. This grinding is a very troublesome process, and the arms of the poor creatures condemned to it acquire an unusual form.

As bread is the mainstay in these lands, in the form of flat cakes, often as fine and thin as wafers, a slave can only make meal for eight persons, if she works from morning to evening; and this is even taken as a standard. Besides that murhàka of clay, which is mixed with slime and roots, although the pure blue clay lies at a small depth, I saw also large broken mortars in the earth, made of the very same materials. In order to repair these, they make a hole in the ground, smearing the inside with clayey thick slime, and light a fire in it, when the mortars become as smooth and dark as if they were made of cast iron. A pestle of hard wood is used to prepare an oil from the simsin and garrua (ricinus).

We also found a large net used for the chase, with bells, made of the fruit of the doum-palm, which is similar to that of the cocoa-tree. They spread this net around the gazelles and antelopes, who, on touching the meshes (made of the inner bark of trees) are frightened at the clattering of the bells, and rush along it to the hostile ambush, where they are killed with javelins. They have also another method of seizing the gazelles and taking them alive. They know the foot-prints of these animals, and what food, in the way of shrubs, is most pleasing to them. Here the huntsmen lay under the dense foliage of brushwood, large traps, which are covered round about to their centre with small lanceolate flat bamboo plants, in such a manner that an opening remains in the middle, where the points concentrate, and this gives way on anything stepping on it, so that the animal is caught by his leg in this prickly plate, and thereby being hindered from escaping, is easily taken.

We found also some well-baked and polished pots, filled with tobacco, the before-named rice of the Shilluks, and other seeds of grasses. The strip of shore whereon we found ourselves was narrow, and a few days previously had been deserted by the water; the lower part of the tokuls not having suffered from it, because, even at high water, there is but little current.

All up the country are grass swamps, with sunt-trees, and between them some huts, which could not have been then inhabited. Boats, with people in them, rowed here and there in the grass, to watch us. On the right shore we remark five villages—the largest might contain 200 houses. The bank of the river here is gently elevated to about 10 feet, as is the case nearly always in the direction of villages a little distant. Some of our soldiers, native Shilluks, who were like slaves among the troops, have been sent out to treat with the people.

The Sultan or Bando of the Shilluks, in the preceding year, on the arrival of the first expedition, fearing a hostile invasion, collected here several thousand men. On that occasion the Turks remained two or three days, in order to come to terms with him; and he presented them with cattle and sheep. We expect, therefore, now, the arrival of the Bando, to whom a present of a red upper garment, red cap (tarbùsh, in Turkish, fessi), and glass beads, has been sent. A heavy boat, or rather a periagua, hollowed out from the trunk of a tree, lies here. Thibaut, in his spiritual humour, wanted, or pretended to want, dry wood, and ordered his servants to hew to pieces this boat, which, perhaps, had been made half a year; but the sunt-wood having become black from being in the water, was as strong as iron, and defied all the efforts of the hatchet. A canoe of this kind is called sürtuk.

7th December.—We have not yet seen the king of this great nation, which may amount to 2,000,000 people, according to Suliman Kashef’s declaration, if it be true, that there are large gohrs fed by the Nile in the interior, whereon the villages lie equally as crowded as here on the main stream, who has not made his appearance. He dwells, however, only two or three hours’ distance from the river; and we hear throughout the night the large war-drums (Nogàra) beating in our neighbourhood—a proof that they mistrust us. I am also persuaded that if Suliman Kashef had once got the dreaded Bando of the Shilluks on board, he would have certainly sailed away with him. I read this in his countenance when he received the intelligence that the Bando would not appear. Willingly as I would have seen this negro king, yet I rejoiced at his not coming for this shameful treachery to be practised upon him. Besides, he had also no cause to welcome the Muslims, these sworn enemies of his people; for, shortly before our departure for the white stream, he had sent three ambassadors to Khartùm, to place himself on a friendly footing with the Turks, and thus to check the marauding expeditions of his Arab neighbours, in which Kurshid Basha and Suliman Kashef had played a principal part. These three Shilluks, who were masters of the Arabic language, were treated in the divan with the usual contempt, as “Abit,” and were handed over to the Sheikh el Beled of Khartùm, to be entertained as common men. This Sheikh, who, receiving no pay, and having to bear the burden of everything, performs the duties of his office more from fear than for the honour, regaled these imperial messengers so magnificently that they came to us Franks, and begged some girsh (piasters) for bread and merissa. To procure them a better reception in the divàn, I represented to Abdalla Effèndi that he would by such treatment draw upon him the anger of the Basha, who was absent in Taka. He really would have presented them on the next day with dresses of honour, but they went away by stealth on the same evening. Now, I heard privately, through my servants, from our messengers to the Shilluks, that the Bando accepted, indeed, the garments, but abused the donors, and said that he would receive and welcome his equals, such as Mohammed Ali, and not his slaves.

I had not seen the baobàb-tree, which, as I learned in conversation, was in the neighbourhood of our landing-place. This gigantic tree, attaining a circumference of 60—nay, even of 120 feet, as one is said to be, near Fàzogl, is called in the land of Sudàn Homera, and its fruit Gungulés. So also the date-tree is called Naghel, and its fruit Tammer, or Bellàgh.

Half an hour before sunrise this morning, we left the prodigious sunt-trees, which had yesterday afforded us such excellent shade. With a fresh north wind we sail S.W. by W., and make four miles. The idea of enticing the king of the Shilluks by a new experiment, was abandoned. On the level surface of the right side of the river we observe ten pastoral villages, appearing to be surrounded with enclosures (Seriba), as a protection against wild beasts. No villages containing tokuls are seen; these are found further up the country, in the Gallas, as our Dinkas tell me. In the land of the Shilluks twenty-one villages shew themselves within an hour and a half. We pass by twelve villages in an hour. On the contrary, we see only four in the land of the Dinkas, on the opposite side. Eight o’clock, W.S.W., five miles. The villages of the Shilluks are in a line, close to one another, and form many pretty groups between the trees, whilst the huts of the Dinkas cover monotonously the flat shore, upon which few or no trees rise. I counted again, up to ten o’clock, fifteen villages, the last of which was distinguished by its picturesque position and large trees. Three baobàbs stand before the hut, which extend in two groups upon a gently curved neck of land, with their small cupola roofs. One of these trees is dead; the second a ruin; the third, as well as a fourth, in the upper part of the village, is in a living-dead state, for it has only a few leaves. This is the already known African giant-tree (Adansonia digitata).

One of the things especially giving a beautiful effect to the landscape, besides the doum-palms, protruding over the mimosas, is the aspiring slender Dhelleb-palm. It has a stem like that of the date-tree, which swells somewhat in the middle, and decreases towards the top. In the inlets, from whence these picturesque necks of land project into the stream, I perceived, to the left side of the shore, villages in all directions, forming a magnificent whole, whilst the right shore was bare, and at this time had only two villages to shew. The river forms its grass-islands, as before, and the villages unfortunately retreat to the old line of the shore from east to south; whilst we, with a brisk north wind, sail W.S.W. six miles. Half an hour beyond, the villages, green, marshy meadow-land, up to the old shore, appearing to denote the forest, to which the Nile approaches in an extensive curve, and forms near us, on the right, a grassy river pasture. I should like to see a map, accurately marking these creeks, subordinate arms, and natural canals, extending into the country, with the proximity and distance of the villages from the shore.

Whilst we approach the forest on the left bank, we observe several crocodiles before us, who are not alarmed at the rustling of our ships through the water. At half-past ten I stand on deck, and count again seventeen new villages of the Shilluks. It is very certain that the bay before alluded to spreads to nearly an hour’s breadth in the left shore. At eleven o’clock I see, on this side, an unlimited thriving grass plain, extending on a level with the water, at the most distant point of which a city is seen, said to be about three hours distant. The verdure shews that the river overflows the whole country; therefore it may be possible for individual families, during the inundation, to remain in the tokuls, lying close to the river, because they are always somewhat elevated, and the water can spread itself over a place of such a nature, but cannot ascend to any height.

On every side rise dhellèb-palms, but most of the villages are without them, and generally without trees at all. It seems inconceivable that none should be planted, for their shade is so extremely grateful in this climate. The natives always take the nearest trees, for the building materials of their tokuls, and never reflect that they may be sorry for this when the sun ascends the horizon. In their most pressing necessities they only provide for the moment, and therefore may not be inclined to plant for the future, or for their children. Immediately after eleven o’clock we sail close to the right shore, where two villages lie on yellow bare elevated downs; they are distinguished from those of the Shilluks by pointed roofs and a slovenly construction. Near the upper miserable Dinka city, where the lower walls of the tokuls are not even plastered, nine dhellèb-palms are found; eight stand together, and afford a beautiful sight. Four of these bear fruit; the others are male trees. The horizon, towards the left shore is covered with sixteen villages, and again we have a beautiful group of dhellèb-palms, mimosas, and baobàbs. The dhellèb, as far as it was known to the Ethiopians of Meroë, might have given the form to the pillars swelling in the middle; otherwise such columns appear to be contrary to nature; but we also find the same form in the Ambak.

About twelve o’clock we see, on the right side of the river, six ostriches walking about. This sight Suliman Kashef cannot withstand. We go ashore therefore, but the ostriches do not seem to trust us strangers: they stride up the country, and run away, directly the first shot sounds in their ears. The shore here gently rises from ten to twelve feet; and the hill, which might once have counted many huts where now only a few cabins are seen, rose some six feet higher. Behind it, the whole surface of the earth falls away, and the Nile is seen at a distance flowing near other Dinka villages, and ending in a narrow channel, deep in the land. A number of potsherds lay around; and those small heights I had taken at a distance for ant-hills, as these had often come before me in the Taka country, were hills of ashes. The Dinkas, who here chiefly lead a pastoral life, make on these hills their fires, and raking away the warm ashes, and collecting them in a circular form, lie down and sleep upon them, on account of the damp nights, for they go naked like the Shilluks. The cattle also are tied to stakes, in a circle around these hills of ashes. Now I could explain the livid colour of the people; for no religious custom enjoins the strewing of ashes on the body; and washing is not one of their practices, as is only too plainly remarked by the slaves coming from thence.

Opposite to us lay seven villages of the Shilluks. We had seen, at an earlier period, several of those Sürtuks (boats) erected within the shade of trees, in the country of the Shilluks; but here they are of an unusual length, and seem to be made of the dhellàb-palm. In the afternoon, level land abounded on all sides. We again approached the left shore. The stream flows in a picturesque semicircle before a beautiful pasture-ground, upon which are found doum and dhellèb-palms, mimosas, and other trees, forming a strong contrast to the blue sky. Between them eight villages are scattered, at which several people have collected under the protecting shade of two baobàbs, and gaze at us with astonishment. The Haba, or forest, either loses itself here, or extends beyond the horizon. Opposite, only one village, containing tokuls, with more pointed roofs, lies upon the arid ground; and a small river there seems to flow into the great stream, if it be not itself an arm of the river, having a considerable fall. We sail S.W., and make three miles whilst the river has the rapidity of one mile. On the right shore merely a doum-palm rises here and there from the immeasurable plain, whose low grey circumference, untouched by water, can scarcely be seen on account of the distance. At three o’clock five villages, in a low country, rich in palms; on the right shore, in front, only one village is to be seen, and the horizon before us is closed by nine villages. About four o’clock S.S.W.; on the left all flat to the forest, which again approaches nearer in an extensive sweep, but consists only of bad trees and underwood.

It is five o’clock, and we sail S.W. to the mouth of a river coming from Habesh, and on that account called Bahr el Makada. We halt, and Selim Capitan and our engineers ascertain the latitude, in order to determine the mouth of this river, which may be here five hundred paces broad. It has six fathoms in depth, and two miles in rapidity; whilst the Nile has only three fathoms in depth, and half a mile in velocity. It is said to come from the east, but that remains to be proved on our return voyage. The Arabic name of the river is Sobàt, though we hear it called also Sibàt and Subàt. Downs rise before and on it, from whence we perceive, at the setting sun, eleven villages between doum-palms, on the right shore of the White Stream, which, dividing here far and wide into several arms, raises a doubt which we shall choose to-morrow. The river Sobàt forms the limits of the country of the Dinkas.

The nation of the Nuèhrs begins on its left shore, and dwells up the Nile from hence—the Shilluks still continuing on the left shore. We learn from our negroes that the Sobàt is called Tah by the Dinkas, who give the name of Kir to the white stream, and Tilfi by the Shilluks dwelling opposite. It disembogues itself under 9° 11′ north latitude. When I returned to the vessel from my excursion, at sunset, I had an attack of fever, which is very inconvenient for me here on the white river. We chose our anchorage far from the shore, in a kind of lake; therefore the fires or torches of the Shilluks in the grass, flickering here and there, might keep the crew awake, but could not frighten them. The continual drumming must indeed have destroyed the illusion of the Shilluks, that they could swim to us, or surprise us with their canoes whilst we were sleeping.

CHAPTER VI.

ANT-HILLS. — TRIBE OF THE NUÈHRS. — THE JENGÄHS. — KAWASS OR SERJEANT MÁRIAN FROM MOUNT HABILA. — DESCRIPTION OF HIM. — TOKULS OF THE JENGÄHS. — FIRST APPEARANCE OF GAZELLES. — THE RIVER N’JIN-N’JIN. — WORSHIP OF TREES. — THE GALLAS OR STEPPES. — BLACK COLOUR OF THE RIVER. — NEW SPECIES OF PLANTS. — THE BITTERN AND IBIS. —“BAUDA” OR GNATS: THEIR DREADFUL STING. — LIEUT. ABD-ELLIÀB’S CRUELTY TO HIS FEMALE SLAVE. — THE TOKRURI OR PILGRIM. — CURIOUS SUPERSTITION WITH REGARD TO THESE MEN. — MOUNTAIN CHAIN OF NUBA. — PAPYRUS ANTIQUUS OR GIGANTIC RUSH. — GAZELLE RIVER. — DEAD FISH. — DIFFERENT SPECIES OF SNAKES. — ARABIC SONGS AND FESTIVITY ON BOARD. — JENGÄHS SUPPOSED TO BE WORSHIPPERS OF THE MOON: THEIR MANNER OF TATOOING. — STRIFE BETWEEN THE SOLDIERS AND SAILORS. — ANTIPATHY OF THE FRENCH ENGINEERS TO EACH OTHER. — LOCUSTS. — TORMENT OF THE GNATS: THEIR VARIOUS SPECIES. — BARBARITY OF THE TURKS ON THE FORMER EXPEDITION. — MARVELLOUS STORIES OF THE ARABS. — HATRED OF THE NATIVES TO THE TURKS.

8th December.—At day-break we proceed towards S.W. with north-west wind; three miles. At nine o’clock N.N.W. We see from the deck sixteen villages on the left shore; on the right, close to the border of the river, a number of little hills, overgrown with sward, and therefore, perhaps, formerly strongholds of ants, like those characteristic hills of ashes, which would seem to denote an ancient pastoral station. Further inland are distinguished, on the ancient old shore, up to which all is bare, two large villages. The stately palms also on the right, appear now to lose themselves in the extensive plain. We go N.W., and make five miles.

About ten o’clock, I surveyed on the right twenty-one villages, in the country of the Shilluks, on a green plain, in which, with the exception of some palms, there were no trees, and which took up the whole horizon from W. to N.E. Ou the left hand, the neighbouring right shore was nearly bare. Whilst we sail to N.W., two mountains, the one in front appearing to be covered with wood, rise in the S.W., at a distance of three or four hours.

At half-past eleven o’clock, we go on shore to the left, in the country of the Nuèhrs, to take in wood for ten or fourteen days, as it is said that there are merely reeds further up. No sunt presented itself here, but stunted geïlids and miserable ebony, which, however, cannot be cut, owing to its hardness. On the left shore here, are the boundaries of the Shilluks, and the Jengähs follow. An extensive green meadow, with neither trees nor houses on it, separates these two tribes.

The Kawass (serjeant) on board our vessel, gives me much welcome information on the condition of this people. He is called Màrian, from Mount Habila, and is the son of the murdered Mak, or King of all the mountains of Nuba, a hundred and eighty in number, according to him, and subject formerly to his father, who was slain by the Turks. He was made a slave, and was obliged, as being such, to change his name from Uadassa to that of Marian. He is of middle height, has a regular black countenance, with vertical streaks on the temples; on the forehead he is tattooed, and has ten holes at the edge of each ear, from which the Turks have taken his gold rings. He is a sensible and modest man; has been in the service thirteen years, and understands it, but has not been able to gain promotion, because he is entirely forgotten, and has no one to make the necessary intercession for him: his young son, however, was preserved at the time, and Marian’s uncle, who pays tribute to the Turks, has appointed him his deputy. Marian perceives that his tribe cannot do anything, even with the greatest bravery, against fire-arms, and therefore does not wish to acquire his freedom again by deserting. Besides this man, there are two Dinkas, a Shillkaui, and a Jengäh, on board, though hitherto I have found it impossible to learn the slightest thing from them about the manners and customs of their country, because they consider that such information would be treachery to their countrymen.

At one o’clock, we got again under weigh towards S.W., and kept more to the left side of the river. About half-past two o’clock, we saw the first tokuls of the Jengähs, which are far more slovenly built than those of the Shilluks; they stand a quarter of an hour distant from the shore, near a single dhellèb palm: we landed near them. A sürtuk lay there, forty feet long, with vertical sides and pointed ends; the stern of the boat, although made of hard timber, is closed diagonally by a piece of wood: it appeared to be hewn out of the trunk of a dhellèb palm. A beautiful kind of mimosa, with thick foliage and yellowish red flowers, like floss silk, struck me especially. The blue clay soil was full of foot-prints of river buffaloes, several of whom shewed themselves yesterday evening, and blew their sackbuts stoutly.

We saw also this morning, for the first time, two giraffes, called, however, Saràff, and said to be very abundant here. As there was nothing to be gained, and no people shewed themselves, we left the place. Soon afterwards we saw a village on the same side, with some dhellèb and doum palms; near it a river, running from N.W. by W., flows into the white stream, which, however, was taken for an arm of the latter. I subsequently ascertained from our Jengäh Bachit, that the name of this little river is N’jin-N’jin, and goes far in his country towards W. He called the white stream Kih, and afterwards Kidi. The sounds in their language are really inarticulate, and they can hardly pronounce an Arabic word so sharply as our characters require.

Up to five o’clock, we had on the right shore, before which a green margin lies in the water, thirty-four villages of the Nuèhrs, each containing from twenty to a hundred and more tokuls. Only a few of these enjoy the shade of trees. I believe it to be certain, that where Nature has once planted propitiously a shoot, and this shoot, by its growth, has triumphed over the voracity of beasts, and the wantonness of man, or stood beyond the reach of their necessities, the tree may easily become an object of veneration to people living in a state of nature, owing to the shade it affords to meetings in the open air.

We sail continually N.W., with slight deviations to one side or the other. We advance three miles, an arm of the Nile scarcely 200 paces broad. There is said to be a larger arm on the left side, as appears also to be the case on the right, where we saw a man take his little canoe on his head, and carry it to the houses near at hand. The right shore has here no habitations of the Nuèhrs; beyond the river’s edge, and also behind the houses the Galla, or Steppe, is visible. The before-named mountains on the right shore, the larger one of which is almost covered with masses of rock, appearing at a distance like large trees, and behind which three smaller curly heads follow, have vanished towards the south. We sail N.W. by W., and another considerable mountain appears on the flat grassy scene towards N.W., whilst we anchor, at sunset, in the middle of the river. Our Bakhi (who was taken prisoner from Bakhara, and was previously called Denn) did not know the name of the hilly ridge lying in the mountainous country of the Jengähs. The N’jin-N’jin, however, which he also calls Kih, meaning the same as river, or water, is said to flow past the foot of high mountains. I was told that when the reed-grass, standing from three to six feet above the water, and becoming very dry from the sun, soon after the inundation has run off, although the roots may be still under water, is ignited, a young and tender grass springs forth, of which cattle are said to be very fond.

The white stream here, and indeed since yesterday, might be really called the Black River. The latter colour arises partly from the Thin, that heavy clayey morass with which the bed of the river is covered, instead of floating sandy particles; and partly also from the dark kind of moss, that we see among the reeds, continuing to the bottom of the river, for the current (amounting here to less than half a mile), is not able to keep its course clear. This long marshy lake, of some two hours in breadth, discloses a new world of plants, in various high grasses and bog-shrubs. The swarms of little birds seem to find their nourishment in the ripening seeds. I remarked two bitterns, having the greatest resemblance to our water-hens—silver-grey, with a white wing: and also the black Ibis. The small detached islands, linked together by marsh-plants, floated only very slowly, although the contrary wind had quite subsided.

9th December.—The latitude, yesterday evening, was 9° 4′. The river, or Kih N’jin-N’jin, would therefore disembogue itself between 9° 12′ and 9° 4′. Our Gohr, as it pleased them to call the arm of the Nile, which we navigated yesterday evening, and which was scarcely fifty paces broad, has increased this morning to 100 and 150 paces in breadth, ever according to the caprice of the reed-grass, predominant here, and impudently intruding itself, for the stream has scarcely anything to do with it. A very strong dew hung on the grass in large pearly drops, very refreshing to the eye at sunrise. The thermometer shewed 20° heat. The distant shore of this marshy lake was denoted by isolated trees and a few small villages. We were obliged to take again to the oars, as on yesterday evening, and went N.W.

A dreadful pest has made its appearance in these lakes. “Baùda” is the horrible name, and means nothing else than gnats, which, when a calm sets in, make the people, and especially the half-naked sailors, nearly mad. On the right side of the Nile we perceive no human habitations. The nation of the Nuèhrs is said, thus far, to dwell more towards the interior, on the left shore of the Sobàt, and may therefore keep at a distance these frightful swarms of gnats, that torment man and beast. On the left bank we saw, at an hour’s distance beyond the reed-lake, eleven small villages; yet the nation of the Jenjähs is said to be very numerous, and to inhabit the shores of their N’jin-N’jin in populous villages, situated on inaccessible mountains. At nine o’clock we sailed, with a tolerably favourable east wind, W. by S., and made three miles, whilst the rapidity of the current might have been about a mile. Clouds had collected in the sky, and we feared rain, to which the Egyptian inhabitants of the Nile are so sensitive.

At eleven o’clock the S.E. wind set in, when we went due N.W. The river, which has, up to this place, a breadth of from four to five hundred paces, widens again to about an hour’s breadth. A marshy swamp, however, soon again intrudes: its pointed angle springs from the right shore, so that the latter can be only an hour distant, even to the trees over the green grass-land, whilst the left shore, on the contrary, has retreated this hour and a half into an immeasurable bay, the limits of which cannot be reached by the eye, even from the mast. That we should not remark any villages in the vicinity of this marshy land, is naturally to be expected.

The right shore becomes wooded, and we see, everywhere, rising pillars of smoke, said to be signals, as the natives can discern our vessels from thence. At 1 o’clock, the right shore, on the foreground of which groups of ambaks rise, is about two hours’ distant. We noticed numerous morass birds collected on this wide plain. This marsh-tree, towards the left side of the shore, appears to delude us in the same manner, since it assumes the form of groups of trees, belonging, at other times, to firm ground. A new morass-plant, rising to a great height, with large corollas, similar to a tuft of reeds, elevates, here and there, its long bare stalks. Its external appearance indicates it, even from afar, to be the papyrus antiquorum.

We go W.S.W., and a little before two o’clock W.N.W. One of the vessels chose another road to the left of us, and is separated an hour’s distance from us by the grass. About two o’clock, every tree (being the sign of firm ground) on the left also vanishes, and we see, therefore, nothing but the sky and grass sea, surrounded or intersected by the arms of the Nile. We sail N.W. with two miles and a half rapidity of current, and probably in the larger central arm, although it is scarcely four hundred paces broad. We conjecture that the main stream is to the right side of the shore, from whence the vessel before mentioned has returned, fearing to lose us altogether from the horizon.

My servants had given some durra to the female slave of our first lieutenant, Abd-Elliab, to prepare merissa from, of which drink the rest of the crew partook. The Paradise-Stormer,—formerly, according to his own confession, a staunch toper,—had no sooner learned that his slave had set to make this liquor, than he ordered this unfortunate creature, who was kneeling just before the murhàka, and grinding the corn, so that the perspiration was pouring off in streams from the bared upper part of her body, to remain quiet where she was: whereupon she crossed her arms over her naked breast. At the very same moment he drew forth the kurbàsh from under his angereb, and swinging it backwards and forwards, brought it down with fearful violence upon her back. As he did not attend to my call from the cabin, but struck so furiously that her skin broke and blood poured down in streams, I jumped out and pulled him backwards by his angereb, so that his legs flew in the air. However, he sprang up again immediately, bounded to the side of the ship, and shouted, with a menacing countenance, “Effendi,” instead of calling me “Kawagi,” which is the usual title for a Frank and a merchant. I had scarcely, however, returned to my cabin, ere he seized his slave again to throw her overboard. I immediately caught up my double-barrel, stood in the doorway, and called out “Ana oedrup” (I’ll fire), whereupon he let her go, and said, with a pallid countenance, that she was his property and he could do as he liked with her. He at last suppressed his anger, when I explained to him that his own head as well as all his Harim, belonged to the Basha. Subsequently he ventured to complain of me to the commandant, who, knowing his malignant and hypocritical character, removed him to the little sandal, to the great delight of the whole crew. On our return to Khartùm he was cringing enough to want to kiss my hand and ask my pardon, (although he had become a captain in the Basha’s guard), because the Basha distinguished me.

A few days previously I had had an opportunity of gaining the affection and confidence of our black soldiers. One of them, a Tokruri or pilgrim from Darfùr had, in a quarrel with an Arab, drawn his knife and wounded him. He jumped overboard to drown himself, for he could not swim, and was just on the point of perishing when he drifted to our ship, where Feïzulla-Capitan no sooner perceived him than he sprang down from behind the helm and saved him, with the assistance of others. He was taken up and appeared nearly dead, and on intelligence being conveyed from the other vessels that he had murdered a Muslim, some of our people wished to throw him again immediately into the water. This, however, being prevented, they thought of making an attempt to resuscitate him, by standing him up on his head. I had him laid horizontally upon his side, and began to rub him with an old ferda belonging to one of my servants. For the moment no one would assist me, as he was an “Abit,” until I threatened the Captain that he should be made to pay the Basha for the loss of his soldiers. After repeated rubbing, the tokruri gave some signs of life, and they raised him half up, whilst his head still hung down. One of the sailors, who as a faki, pretended to be a sort of awakener of the dead, seized him from behind, under the arms, lifted him up a little, and let him, when he was brought into a sitting posture, fall thrice violently on his hinder end, whilst he repeated passages from the Koràn, and shouted in his ears, whereupon the tokruri answered with a similar prayer. Superstition goes so far here, that it is asserted such a pilgrim may be completely and thoroughly drowned, and yet retain the power of floating to any shore he pleases, and stand there alive again.

On the right we noticed N.W. by W., at a great distance, a considerable chain of mountains, to all appearance, over the invisible left shore. According to Selim-Capitan’s declaration this must be called Tickem. The crew even think that it is either the Tekeli or the Tira, which, however, is impossible, as we have long ago left them behind in the North. Both mountains are well known by our Kawass Màrian, and belong indeed to the mountain chain of Nuba. This mountain, however, is called, according to Màrian, Morre, and its high rocks are inhabited by a valiant, pagan, Negro race; they lie beyond the Nuba chain, and far isolated from it. Màrian had more than once travelled through the country, and had also been into these parts, when Sultan Fadl fled to them from Kordofàn, on the invasion of the Turks. Half-past three o’clock, W.N.W. Still in the grass-sea. We halted at sun-set, where the arm of the Nile goes from E. to W. The far distant and scarcely visible mountain lies now to the N. of us, and appears to be nearly twenty hours’ distant; this agrees with Màrian’s statement. Neither land nor tree to be seen, even from the mast; but back on the right shore, large clouds of smoke, which we have seen in many places throughout the day, and which I rather take to be signal-fires, than kindled for the purpose of driving away the gnats that first make their appearance towards evening.

10th December.—A dead calm throughout the night. Gnats!!! No use creeping under the bedclothes, where the heat threatens to stifle me, compelled as I am, by their penetrating sting, to keep my clothes on. Leave only a hole to breathe at; in they rush, on the lips, into the nostrils and ears, and should one yawn, they squeeze themselves into the throat, and tickle us to coughing, causing us to suffer real torture, for with every respiration again a fresh swarm enters. They find their way to the most sensitive parts, creeping in like ants at every aperture. My bed was covered in the morning with thousands of these little tormenting spirits—compared with which the Egyptian plague is nothing—which I had crushed to death with the weight of my body, by continually rolling about.

As I had forgotten to take with me from Khartùm a mosquito-net, or gauze bed-curtains, for which I had no use there on account of the heat, to keep off these tormentors, there was nothing for it but submission. Neither had I thought of leather gloves, unbearable in the hot climate here, but which would have been at this moment of essential advantage, for I was not only obliged to have a servant before me at supper-time, waving a large fan, made of ostrich-feathers, under my nose, so that it was necessary to watch the time for seizing and conveying the food to my mouth, but I could not even smoke my pipe in peace, though keeping my hands wrapt in my woollen Burnus, for the gnats not only stung through it, but even crept up under it from the ground. The blacks and coloured men were equally ill-treated by these hungry and impudent guests; and all night long might be heard the word “Bauda,” furious abuse against them, and flappings of ferdas to keep them off; but in spite of this, the face and body were as if bestudded, and swollen up with boils. The Baudas resemble our long-legged gnats, although their proboscis, with which they bore through a triple fold of strong linen, appears to me longer. Their head is blue; the back dun-coloured, and their legs are covered with white specks, like small pearls. Another kind has shorter and stronger legs, a thicker body, of a brown-colour, with a red head and iris-hued posteriors.

The crew are quite wearied from sleepless nights, and rowing must be given up if the calm continues, although we find ourselves in a canal whose water propels us so little that we do not cast anchor. Here I got a specimen of the gigantic rush (papyrus antiquus) before mentioned. The stalk is prismatic, somewhat rounded, however, on one side; it runs in a conical form, to the length of from ten to twelve feet, and bears on the top a corolla like a tuft of reeds, the ray-formed edges of which branch out, and are more than a span long: the greatest thickness of the stem is one inch and a half, and never less than half an inch thick, and under the green rind there is a strong pith. Subsequently, however, I saw this papyrus, which our Arabs were not acquainted with, from fifteen to twenty feet long, and two inches thick, so that the longer reeds on the top shot forth from their little clusters of flowers and seeds, five to six new spikes, the length of a span. The Ambak was known to the old Egyptians; there is no doubt, therefore, that it, as well as this rush, was split, glued to one another, and used for a writing material, because it afforded the advantage of a greater extent of surface.

We row again a little, and wait till ten o’clock for Hüssein Aga’s clumsy kaiàss, although a slight N.E. wind has set in. We then sail N.W. and make two miles and a half. At three o’clock we go W.S.W. slowly into the great lake, wherein the Gazelle river (Bahr el Gasáll) disembogues itself. This river is said to flow here from the country of the Magrabis (Berbers), as some soldiers affirmed, who had served under Mustapha Bey, and pretended to have pressed forward to its shores. Touching this lake and the river, the name of which we could not learn, for its borders are entirely covered with reeds, and therefore cannot be inhabited, the declaration of the soldiers was only a confirmation of what Mustapha Bey told me in Khartùm. On account of the dead calm, we halt on the right reedy shore of the stream, in the lake itself, beyond which we do not yet distinguish land, any more than to the left. Over a yellowish tract, there, which the water may have left, like an island, green grass and the ascending smoke, announcing human life, shew themselves again and denote a firm shore. The lake may be from eighteen to twenty sea miles square.

In the evening, the smoke appeared like long-extended peculiar fireworks, rising equally high; and there was no doubt that this was ignited high grass, a sight which, from Sennaar to this place, was no longer new to me. The Gazelle river glimmered far beyond, the grasses impeding its mouth; and I distinguished plainly, from the elevated poop, that it emptied itself into two arms, S.W. by W. and S.W., forming a delta, obtuse at the top. My servant, who was at the mast-head, confirmed me in the opinion of this more extensive direction, by stretching out his arm to that region.

Dead fish, of the species called garmùt (Heterobranchus, bidorsalis Geoff.), real monsters in size, had already previously floated towards us; they were said to have been harpooned by the inhabitants of the shore, as very probably was the case. Our angling, however, procured us few or no fish. It was not so much the north wind, as the abundance of food brought by the inundation, that kept them away from our bait.

We had already seen and caught several snakes, and twice I saw how this reptile let itself be carried by the stream, coiling itself up and holding its head above water. Here a small blackish snake appeared, before which we threw a piece of wood, when it became irritated, and drove repeatedly against our vessel, although we thrust at it with poles. The first-named were mostly those I had already seen and made a collection of in Taka—the Naja Haje (Coluber Haje Hasslq.) Vipera Cerastes Daud, Python Subae, &c. The large snakes were generally called Assala, and the small ones sometimes Hannesh and Debib, and sometimes Dabàhn. It is only the viper that has the name of Haigi among these people as its peculiar one. We had seen here and there in these marshes serpents which might be described as equal in bulk to a moderate tree. I had in Taka heard a similar comparison from Sheikhs whose word could be relied on; and also that the snakes were of such a size that they could easily carry a man from his angereb, and swallow him very comfortably.

I remarked in the reeds many ant-hills, such as are seen in Taka; they were eight to ten feet high, but whether inhabited or not I cannot say. If they were so, their height might be explained by the supposition that the insects sought to protect themselves in their upper cells from the high water; that is, if the Nile did not formerly make another bend here, so as not to overflow this marsh-land. Besides, I had already had the opportunity of observing these termites and their ingenious strongholds, whereby I convinced myself that they are not very much afraid of the water; but, on the contrary, they descend deep into the earth, to fetch up damp soil, in order to give a smooth surface to the apparent labyrinth of their cells, which, in the lower part of their habitations, are as thick as one’s fist. These little whitish insects are also themselves full of water, and burst as soon as they are touched. These ants are called arda. They will perforate in one night, from the bottom to the top, a trunk filled with clothes, if it is not placed upon a stone; for they dread daylight, and are afraid to climb up stones on the earth.

Owing to the ants, we, towards evening, left the shore, and anchored in the middle of the lake, which has a greater breadth in the direction of the west, and where only a few ants shewed themselves, and these, from the weight of the blood they had sucked in, were not able to fly away from the reeds, and had stuck to the ship. We remarked also a great number of glowworms among the reeds. Suliman Kashef sent me the sandal, and I repaired with Feïzulla Capitan to him.

Every one was overjoyed at escaping from the gnats. The sailors swam here and there, but desisted from this vocation when crocodiles appeared in our neighbourhood. There was mad shouting and singing, and the Hippopotami appeared indignant at this noise, for they bellowed in opposition on all sides. Suliman Kashef ordered his men to squat down before the cabin, and sing. Several Arabic songs were chanted, such as that of the Bedoaui (Bedouins), in which there is really a pretty refrain. “La Volèt, el Juhm” (O youth the day). The variation of “l’Eli, l’eli” (the night, the night), being in trioles, is adapted to very soft modulations, and is introduced as a melody, awakening the feelings in the same manner as the modern Greek “Mana” (composed from the Turkish “Amàhn,” and denoting a cry for mercy). It is not, however, executed in the horrible and purely barbarian manner of the so-called Hellenes. They had also satirical songs on Melek Kambal and Ahmed Basha: these, however, they were not allowed to sing to the end. Suliman Kashef related anecdotes of his former journeys, and did not seem to think it impossible to overthrow and supplant his friend and countryman Ahmed Basha. He had an old sailor as a jester or Dèli on board, who was obliged to make jokes before the whole crew, and therefore was called Abu Hashis, which means a man who drinks a decoction made of hemp, having the same effect as opium, and who plays the buffoon.

Suliman Kashef was very much excited by the liquor. He fired in the air, or at the hippopotami emerging from the water, and had his gun continually loaded. It was really wonderful to see these animals, bellowing on all sides, as if challenging him to the combat. Their time of coition appeared, however, to have set in, and these fearful trombone sounds might have pertained to the period of rutting. Towards evening we had also seen numerous fish bustling about amid the reeds, and heard them the whole night springing up, without thinking of catching them, because they are considered unclean in the coition-season by our Turks and Arabs. A number of green islands, worn off by the floating water colossus from the marshy shore, being driven by the wind, floated by us, and made us believe that we were sailing. There was such a shouting of bad witticisms from the jesters privileged here, that we could not help laughing. If our Abu Hashis failed in his tropes, he was unanimously called “Abu! abu!” and if the chief Abu Hashis of Suliman Kashef was not quiet at this, and went on to make fun of the others with his stentorian voice, he was asked what his Harim consisted of, at which question he always became quiet, not wishing to joke on such a subject.

This vast water-basin had, some two hundred paces from the Nile, which passes through on the east side, only one fathom and a half in depth, the latter having three fathoms and a half, and a current of a quarter of a mile. The latitude here was given by Selim Capitan as 9° 16′, and 28° 55′ east longitude from Paris. I hear that, in the preceding year, they sailed round the mouth of the Gazelle river for two days, being unable to enter it by reason of the reeds. I did not grudge the trouble of asking a question twenty times; and at last, I learned from our Iengäh that the head of the river is called in his country Iak, although he refused to give me the name of his abode or of the capital or city.

I could extract equally as little information from him about his religion; yet these people must be, as Professor Ehrenberg, who had a Iengäh as a servant, asserts, worshippers of the moon. The moon is generally more or less an object of veneration in these hot countries. The distinctive characteristics of the Iengäh nation consist of a cross incision immediately over the eyebrows as far as the temples, and over this, several vertical cuts close to one another, an inch in length. The manner of tattooing amongst them consists in slitting or cutting open the skin, the scars on which protrude like basso-relievos. The dignity of Sultan and Sheikh is hereditary. It almost seems to me that Marian is also unwilling to give information concerning his Nuba, since I shewed him a map of his country. The offer I made him to solicit the Basha to promote him to the rank of an officer, and to send him back into his own country to enlist troops, seemed very agreeable to him, and easy to be accomplished, for his countrymen must and would willingly follow him, because the Basha pays well. The Basha subsequently promoted him to the rank of a lieutenant, but thought it somewhat hazardous to raise a regiment of Nuba negroes, since he must have given the supreme command to this man as their native Mak or King; although he values the slaves from this country more than all the others, and keeps many of them on his estate, whom he rewards with pretty wives.

12th December.—Before sunrise this morning we left the Lake, sailed with a faint N.E. wind a short tract S.W., and then W. by S., with two miles rapidity of current, into a canal, surrounded by a border of reeds on both sides, and 100 to 150 paces broad. High reeds, but more low ones, water couch-grass and narrow grass, the pale-green aquatic plant, the lilac convolvulus, moss, water-thistles, plants like nettles and hemp, formed on the right and left a soft green mixture, upon which groups of the yellow-flowing ambak-tree rose, and which itself was partly hung round with luxuriant creepers, covered with large cup-like flowers, of a deep yellow colour. To my sorrow, I see that my collection of plants, in spite of my great care, has commenced the fermenting process, leaving but little hope of preserving any of them, for these children of the marshes speedily rot. I am especially grieved about the white lotus-flowers, which I have not seen for some days; as well as for the Nymphæa cærulea, which do not appear at all.

From W. by S.; soon again to S.W. by S.; and at nine o’clock, S.W.—four miles. The ambaks rising from the immeasurable expanse of reed-grass, at times deluded us into the belief that they were trees of distant shores. High reeds are no longer to be seen, and even that reed-grass appears to be lost here, but, instead of it, luxuriant long grass, two to three feet high, sprouts out of the water.

Eleven o’clock, S.W. by S.—two miles. Towards S. we observe isolated trees, and the tops of dwellings, in the country of the Nuèhrs, where soon afterwards smoke ascends,—a sign that they see our masts, although they are an hour distant from us. The channel is again about 300 paces broad. There is everlasting strife between the Egyptian sailors and the few Egyptian soldiers, who shew, even here, the quarrelsome nature of the Fellàhs. Feïzulla Capitan is very indifferent to it; a thorough slave to his crew and to his passions; yet, at times he makes them tow, or orders the braggarts to be gagged by a piece of wood fastened behind the ear, which they are obliged to take in their mouths; but this is done, however, more to please himself, and to make the crew laugh, than to acquire respect by good sound reprimands. Where a laudable zeal is displayed on no side, this apathy appears to me, generally, to promise us very little honour in the conclusion of our expedition; even Arnaud testifies but little pleasure at the prospect of a further advance. Selim Capitan is afraid of the natives, and Suliman Kashef is the only one from whose ambition and courage I have anything to expect. The Frenchmen continue to have their windows covered, that, forsooth, they may not see the melancholy, monotonous country. Mutually cool towards one another, they are continually opening collections of anecdotes, and comic publications, to fill up the gaps in their insipid conversation. Arnaud seems to look upon Selim Capitan as the abler man, for he consults him, and watches the chronometer, whilst the latter handles the instruments.

At noon, W. by W., and at one o’clock S. Towards the east, we see the vessels that have remained behind, in the extensive sea of reeds, and we likewise, for the first time, rightly remark the winding of this passage. The gigantic rush shews itself here and there like little pine-forests; also isolated parcels of high reeds over the old dry low reeds, which spring forth again fresh from their stalks. The spikes of the grass are here cropped, and before us there rises an enormous swarm of locusts, who move up the river. These may be, for the moment, welcome food to the fish mostly seen here, which are wide-mouthed, but otherwise similar to an eel (Clarias anguillaris). All those that we caught, had locusts in their belly. The wind, as is usual about noon, has almost entirely slackened; the crew row, keeping time with songs to their oars, S.W. by S. About three o’clock, we halt at the right shore of the reeds, which are dry here, although on the right they are of a soft green. Now I see that we must not be deceived by the yellow tracts, with the belief that firm ground exists there, for the grasses here, standing in the water, are also dry.

Although the thermometer, as yesterday, is only 28°, yet it feels, when the dead calm sets in, as close and confined as in Khartùm, with a heat of 42°, to which, perhaps, the exhalations from the marshes may mostly contribute. An unusual perspiration has not only made its appearance upon me, but even the crew, especially the rowers, are dripping, as if with water. About nine o’clock in the evening, we cast anchor in a depth of two fathoms, and half a mile current.

I had resigned to Feïzulla Capitan the pleasure of preparing the bill of fare for us, and therefore there was so much cooked (“Alla Kerim”), that not only he, but half the crew, were feasted. The Kurd had previously withdrawn himself from this community; and I found it advisable, as I had been robbed by his people into the bargain, to be economical with my provisions, in order that they might last to the end of the voyage, giving my servant, Sate Mahommed, from Mahass, the most necessary directions for cooking.

13th December.—If a regular visitation of gnats took place three days ago, it was nothing to be compared with that of yesterday evening. Even this morning, when the sun had risen, we had no rest; it was impossible for me to write even if my head had been less confused, after such a painful night. This was the smaller species, not having legs, with spots like pearls. Neither fans, nor entire masses of tobacco, which we kindled on an iron platter, keep these little beasts away from us.

Millions of glowworms fluttered around in the rushes and ambaks, accompanied by the shrill cry of locusts. The croaking, however, of frogs was wanting, for they do not appear to be forthcoming here. A little before sunrise, we again rowed towards the west; and the whole crew, though exhausted, really used their utmost endeavours to get away from this region. We advanced, however, but slowly, for the current had become a little stronger. About eight o’clock, to our great delight, a strong N.E. wind set in, and we made four miles. The horizon was covered, towards the right shore, from E. to S., with tokuls, and there was a considerable village at the point where the river approaches from E. and E.S.E. Unfortunately we are obliged to wait for the vessels left behind; and this is so much the more to be regretted because the strong north winds seem altogether to be lost here. We are only separated from this shore by a few reeds, but prevented from landing, as the water reaches far above a man’s head. Low bushes of mimosas stand there upon dry ground, scarcely elevated above the surface of the Nile, but rising, however somewhat towards a village in which a tokul is distinguished, from its unusual size. The little sandal has, nevertheless, discovered a narrow road, made by the natives, or by the large aquatic animals to the land, and brings off with it twenty-five sheep, which it has procured on shore.

The inhabitants of this village were harshly used by the former expedition. At that time they brought four oxen as a present, and gave a sheep to Thibaut, who, because it was somewhat swollen, took it to be poisoned. This circumstance was sufficient cause to incite the crew to go ashore, to surround the village on all sides, and to shoot down, in a shameful manner, the Sheikh, and several others who had fled with him into the neighbouring marshes. Thibaut made a very pretty booty here, consisting, amongst other things, of a square quiver, somewhat curved at the top, altogether of antique form; besides large felt caps, very similar to the ancient Egyptian caps of the priests, high and obtuse in front; bread collars for bulls, set round with iron spindle-shaped ornaments, which were hung up in the great tokul, and may have been hung therefore round their Apis, as signs of adoration or affection, only on certain festive occasions.

In the neighbourhood, we saw far and wide, towards the left side of the village, the smoke assume a magnificent form. We see from the deck flames moving towards us, the wind being favourable, in long battle array, and steam and black ashes spread near us, apparently arising from the dry grass. Thousands of birds driven thence swarm in the air around the vessels. A number of turtle-doves remain quite innocently in our neighbourhood, perched on the ambak-bushes. It may indeed be called fortunate that the wood there was low and generally thin, for, had it been otherwise, this conflagration, probably caused by the frightened inhabitants, might easily have set the sails on fire. The fatalism, however, of the Turks causes us to squat in the very same place till about sunset, in order to fill our ships again with gnats, although we see the vessels, left behind, coming at a distance. The river winds here from E.S.E. to S.S.W. At last they apply themselves to their oars, but we gain very little, for the current amounts to more than one mile, and the wind, which had set in over night, holds scarcely on for a moment.

14th December.—After a restless night, we did not put ourselves in motion this morning till an hour after sunrise. I see that we have scarcely advanced this night two miles, calculating from the trees standing towards N.E., behind us, which I remarked yesterday at the village of the Nuèhrs, who, indeed, had fled from us behind the burning wood. We sail slowly to the west, and we should scarcely distinguish the right shore, if some tokul-tops were not seen peeping out at a distance of an hour and a half. From want of wind we halt for a time, and sail then with the shifting N.E. wind, further westward, till we go, at ten o’clock, S.W., and make two miles. At eleven o’clock the wind becomes so strong that we fly by, as it were, the reeds close at hand, and for the first time make six miles. We went here W.S.W.

The right shore was marked out by three or four large trees standing at equal distance from each other, like ancient monuments of the victory gained here with difficulty over the moist element. Twelve o’clock, N.W. by N., four miles: again sky, water, and reeds; in the latter, solitary bunches of ambaks and high reeds. Soon we go gradually S.W. by S., and the stream, although it is only some 200 or 250 paces broad, appears not to have, near this part, any considerable arms, as none such are visible from the mast-head. From this reason the greater current is explained. The white river traverses these reed-lakes in meandering windings, and river buffaloes can break any other road for themselves in this shoreless expanse. The thermometer shews at three o’clock 28°, at noon 25°, and this morning at sunrise 20° Reaumur. It is now nearly a dead calm, and we are scarcely able to move from N.W. to S.W.

My servant Fadl informs me from the mast, that he sees land, indeed, behind us; but at the side, and before us, nothing but gesch (reeds or grass). The great mass of water of the white stream so suddenly making its appearance, is explained partly from this long lake (the breadth of which cannot be determined from the ship without an air-balloon), forming a great basin. This basin (after the reed or marsh-ground of its flat edge being scarcely superficially dried, is in some degree saturated) collects immediately the water streaming from above, below, and the sides, until, becoming a mass, it surmounts its natural flood-gates, as these machadas may be called, like a breach of a dike.

At four o’clock the cry is “El hauer galàss” (the wind has ceased), and we halt on the right shore of the reeds, where another dreadful night of gnats awaits us. Where it has been possible, and I have thought of it at the moment, I have planted date-stones, or thrown them, when passing by, on the inundated shores; for this beneficial tree never presents itself, and may, indeed, never thrive here again.

15th December.—We remained yesterday evening actually till after sunset in the reeds, and our vessel was full of musquitos. I mentioned previously these insects as being of two distinct species, and not as male and female. I am confirmed in my former opinion; for in the nights of the 12th and 13th December the smaller kind was so prevalent, that I could only find, after much searching, some bodies of the pearled long-legs on my bed. We therefore suffered again from the usual plague from evening to this morning at eight o’clock, although we had left the reeds. The river had here three fathoms and a quarter in depth, and a rapidity of about one mile and a quarter. We waited this morning for the kaiass, left behind as usual, when it was rowed, owing to its large, clumsy oars; and being a broad-built ship of burden, it had cost us already a pretty time during our voyage. It was not till half-past eight o’clock that a slight east wind set in, and we move slowly on towards S.W., again to W.S.W. after a quarter of an hour, and at nine o’clock to the S., and make two miles.

We remark, on the whole, few land-birds; however, we have seen various species of storks, among which was one of a moderate size, unknown to our crew, with a dark-red back shield. We notice pelicans here and there, and I think what a feast these catchers of fish must have when the Nile, in the dry season, partly deserts the reeds wherein we have observed scarcely any fish but of one species, with flat heads, striped. I had seen already here a dark-brown species of swallow, about twice the size of our house-swallow, and remarked their very short legs, which prevent them from soaring again in the air when they have fallen down in short grass, similar to what I saw in Taka. At ten o’clock we make three miles, and at eleven o’clock four miles, for the east wind was blowing fresh, and we sail towards S.S.E.

The river has resumed its former breadth of some three hundred paces, and the vessels run against one another, according to the dear old custom, always breaking something or getting stuck together. Our captain, nevertheless, does not fall into a passion: the vessel may crack and shake for what he cares; for his sewing-needle appears to him of more importance, and he handles it with an air of determination, as if all his work must be done within the very next hour. Every one wishes to avail himself of the wind; consequently we rush by on reeds, or right into them, and out then pours a myriad of gnats like clouds.

We ought to have the log continually in our hands, with these eternal windings of the river, as the vessel more or less sails according to the ever varying stream, and with the very same winds. Even the most detailed chart can afford but little to be relied upon in such a circular dance of the stream, although the engineer may confine himself to assume as the direction of the course of the river, not the real shores, but the ephemeral borders of reeds. At noon E.S.E., when the wind, passing over into N.E., is somewhat contrary, if the stream does not soon make again another bend. We lend a helping hand with oars to the sails, and the river winds again on the right towards south. Low reeds with tufts of high reeds; little woods of these large crown or paper rushes, and tracts of ambaks.

As the river appeared for a time to hold on its course to the south, being exceedingly weary after these sleepless nights, and not able longer to keep my eyes open, I sank back as it were involuntarily upon my bed, but told my men, however, to wake me without mercy, when the river took another direction. We remained till Asser (three o’clock in the afternoon), in a southern direction, when, covered with perspiration, I awoke of myself, for the cooling N.E. wind had subsided, as usual, after mid-day, and was entirely stagnant. I had dreamt of being very comfortably on my travels in Germany with my brother; and this dream had the effect of consoling me in this miserable position, and of making me look forward with joy to the future. During my sleep they had seen a swimming-bird, said to be as large as a young camel, with a straight beak like a pelican, but no crop under it: they had not shot it, lest they should awake me, and because they thought that this bird, unknown to them, would appear again. Whoever knows the manner of comparing things in this country, will know also how to appreciate the size of this bird.

We lie on the reeds, wait for the ships tarrying behind, and as usual delay to take to the middle of the river, till all the holds of the vessel are full of gnats. At the distance of about an hour we see to the right shore the margin of firm land with tokul-tops, whilst the grass-sea extends still to the other side, upon which, however, in the far distance clouds of smoke ascend. The country here may, on the whole, lie lower, whereby the objects upon it remain under the horizon.

16th December.—The sun ascends, and we sail slowly towards it with a faint N.E. wind. I drew two thin cowls, which I had had made in Taka as a protection against the sun, over my face, to be free at least from gnats at the sides, leaving just room enough in the front for my eyes and pipe. These insects torment us up to nine o’clock, morning: at night they are always singing and buzzing, and they have even contrived, this evening, to pierce through to the fleshy part of my face. The skin on the parts stung by them, principally the hands and feet, begins to itch so that one could scratch it to pieces.

We soon go S.E., and endless swarms of swimming birds come to meet us, and appear to fly down with the river. The pelicans also follow the very same direction, but rest every moment upon the water. It appears that these birds are fonder of live fish, and leave the dead ones to birds of prey, and on that account seek for the inundated parts of the lower course of the stream. In a very short time we go S.W., but immediately again, at eight o’clock, S.E. The wind passes over to the E. in order to gain strength. Like yesterday afternoon, the right shore, from N.E. to S.E., is now covered with tokul-tops, partly collected together as villages, partly lying singly on the line of the horizon, upon which also some dhellèb-palms may be remarked.

To follow the shore of the river, and to define the limits of the bed of the White Stream, over which it here and there rolls, the principal thing would be to follow the line of the villages and old trees, for these determine the peculiar marks of high water, elevated by the river itself. From this high water we might, perhaps, be able to ascertain the mean breadth of the river. But such a difficult journey by land will be certainly, for a long time, an intricate problem. The Turks themselves have also here, without perhaps wishing it, failed in the first impression; so that from “children of heaven” they have become “white devils,” in the eyes of the people. Therefore we see on every side pillars of smoke ascending, which are to be considered as signals of approaching danger, according to the statement of our heroes; whilst the kindled reed-straw, or the high grass of the savannah prairies, spreads its smoke horizontally. Innumerable birds are perched round, in the ambaks; among them a number of turtle-doves are cooing very peaceably, reminding me more of the great Campo in Constantinople than of the lower shores of the Nile.

Ten o’clock. Fadl told me, from the mast, that firm land was approaching the shore from both sides. It was not long before we perceived, whilst making three miles’ course, some tokuls also on the left shore, part of them appearing to be of peculiar size. We see also, in the middle of the reeds, on small eminences, two such huts, said to serve fishermen for temporary abodes. Four men and a woman make signs, or greet us, by raising up their arms high in the air; but even with the best will, we are not able to force our way to them, although they may have something we could pillage. Nevertheless, the right shore retreats again, and we distinguish only the palms of the last-mentioned village.

We continue S.S.E., and as the right shore goes back towards S.E., the left shore approaches nearer with S.W. by S. The stream is now more than 400 paces broad; its water is still very dark, and the broad reeds, with the other aquatic plants, present such a verdant appearance, that it is quite refreshing; and they shoot forth with such vigour, that we imagine we see them growing. It is eleven o’clock. The N.E. wind has again slackened. Our direction is S.E. The water is stagnant in the reeds, not only shut out by them from the current, but also kept back from the stream, which, notwithstanding the narrowness of its bed, has only one mile in rapidity. An influx of this stagnant water into the narrow river-bed can only, therefore, take place according to the proportion in which the stream gradually runs off, and is absorbed into this, its bed.

The Frenchmen pretend, when they return from the mast, to adjust the genuine river-bed, but they will not believe that the water has fallen so that one cannot see over the reeds and the marsh-trees. The company was to have dined with us, but Feïzulla Capitan, who had undertaken to invite the others, had gone first with the sandal to Suliman Kashef, and had there caroused to such excess that he even forgot to invite Suliman himself. Yet, this morning, he thought that he had not only invited him, but also Selim Capitan and the Frenchmen. We made, therefore, the necessary provision for this repast, and waited for the vessels preceding us to bring up; until I heard at last from Selim Capitan as he passed us, that Feïzulla had not been to him.

The latitude yesterday was 8° 36′ 30″, and to-day, 8° 36′. We remained generally, with small declinations, in the south-easterly direction. The hygrometer indicated at three o’clock 40′, and after five o’clock 50′, of atmospheric moisture, whilst in the night it had 70′ to 80′. The dew constantly shews itself first towards morning, and the carpet lying upon the deck is as wet as if it had been dipped in water. The cheerful verdure is explained from this cause, yet it will be extremely monotonous if the same vegetation continues for any distance. We supped together in our vessel, and the Russian renegade, Captain Selim Aga, shewed his usual good scent, and likewise appeared. We were merry, and had two Abu Hashis to contend in witticisms; during which they wished each other to be troubled with all the gnats, and kept up a continual scoffing.

CHAPTER VII.

QUESTION OF THE NAVIGATION OF THE NILE. — KING OF THE SNAKES. — OFFERINGS TO HIM BY THE ARABS. — KURDISTAN. — MÀRIAN’S AUTHORITY OVER THE NEGROES. — THE TAILOR CAPTAIN AGAIN. — DHELLÈB-PALMS. — WANTON DESTRUCTION BY THE CREW. — ELEPHANTS: WHITE BIRDS ON THEIR BACKS. — POISON-TREES. — THE NATION OF THE KÈKS: CUSTOMS AND DESCRIPTION OF THEM. — FLESH OF CAMELS AND GIRAFFES. — MERISSA PREPARED FROM ABRÈ. — THIBAUT DISCOVERED TO BE AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. — RECOLLECTIONS OF GREECE. — WILD CUCUMBERS. — FEIZULLA CAPITAN’S DRINKING PROPENSITIES.

17th December.—Immediately after sunrise we sailed S.S.E.; at eight o’clock, S.S.W., and at nine o’clock, S.W. by S. The stream we navigate is tolerably broad, and appears, so far as we can see over the reedy-sea, to be the only one. On the right shore we have still the dhellèb-palms of yesterday in sight; the land retreats towards S.E., whilst the left shore comes nearer, and lets us see individual tokuls and villages. Some blacks stand on the shore, which approaches us at nine o’clock within gun-shot. They greet us and make signs, but we cannot go to them on account of the reeds, willingly as we would make their acquaintance, in order to provide ourselves again with meat. Ten o’clock. The left shore appears to go S.W. with the river, calculating from some trees and dhellèb-palms. The east wind is tolerably strong; we make three miles. A large pelican was shot, and there were found in the pouch under its bill twenty-four fresh fish, the size of moderate herrings. This burden had impeded its flight from our vessels, and prevented it from swallowing its prey, on the death-shot, as is usual with these birds.

If we consider this enigmatical stream territory, we ask ourselves whether the white river, of and by itself, with such a weight of water, can maintain these lagoons under an African sun? Were the Nile one stream, it must flow off faster; for the rains have already ceased here, and previously, indeed, under the Equator itself. How could the Nile, which still shews its peculiar disposable mass of water, in its main-stream, supply, quite alone, that enormous mass of water, and even to the present time maintain under water these immense reedy lakes, unless other tributary streams, the mouths of which stagnate, owing to the level nature of the ground, and the counter-pressure of the main-stream, supplied a nourishment great beyond belief, to this, with which it equally rises and falls? For the whole mass of water in complexu must suffer an incredible diminution during such a long tract in its slow ebbing, under a burning sun, or this Bahr-el-Abiad must have real giant-springs in its source.

A steam-boat here might surmount many difficulties, and give us the necessary corrections for a map, which cannot be effected by sailing with a constant wind, owing to the often diametrically opposite windings, and the endless difficult calculations. In order to bring such a steam-vessel safe over the upper cataracts of Wadi Halfa, or even of Es-Suan, it must be constructed in such a manner that the paddle-wheels could be entirely taken out, so that it might be towed over by ropes, or it must be built in Khartùm, which, indeed, might be difficult from want of good timber, as the sunt-tree, though very strong, affords but brittle wood. The greatest difficulty would be the establishment and protection of coal-magazines; and with regard to applying charcoal to this purpose, although the White Stream in its lower course has forests enough, yet not so on its middle and upper part: and even if the requisite wood should be found, much time must be lost in felling and preparing it for charcoal. A considerable number of men also would be always necessary for the protection of these establishments, and their consumption of victuals would be so great, that their provisions would leave no room for the charcoal, as the vessels could not be heavier laden. There is another very great consideration,—these labyrinths go through the marshy regions. If only a few men, therefore, should be embarked, and other vessels employed to take up coals, their crews must consist entirely of men selected for the purpose, and known to one another, in order that they might communicate with the inhabitants of the shore, and be able to aim at something more than simply ascertaining the course of the river. Europeans only are fit for this, as they have ideas of humanity, and subjection to the will of One.

At last we have determined to take the clumsy kaiàss in tow, at the droll request of Hässeïn Aga. Our vessel began with it, in order to form a line with the other larger Dahabiës. At eleven o’clock we discerned, upon a marsh island, near the left shore, some thirty talle-trees; this genus we had missed for some time. Here we turn S.S.E., and with a small bend E.S.E., and then E. by S. We were driven by the east wind close to the right bank of the reeds before we had reefed the sails. The only remaining hope that the river may follow its winding course, and bring us, with the assistance of rowing a short way, into a more favourable direction.

Hüsseïn Aga, who is on board our vessel, with another Kurd of Suliman-kashefs, confirms what we had already heard from the Kurd Abdul-Elliàb, and which all these people firmly believe,—namely, that derwishes know how to prepare a liquor, which, if but once drunk of, is a preventive thenceforward of the bite of a snake, or of rendering it harmless. Such a derwish is said to be found even in Khartùm. But some few words, which they assert to be a secret, are requisite to exorcise or find out where snakes are. I then heard that the King of the Snakes is called Shah Maràn. They cannot say, however, where this Sultan lived or died before he assumed the form of a snake, nor do they know his fixed residence, for he sometimes appears in one place, sometimes in another, like the two tutelar deities by water and land, Abu Seïd and Abd-el-Kader. The Arabs are also said to adjure this Snake King in their exorcisms. Even the long sailor, Salem, whom I had patronised on account of his German countenance, and to whom I had given some piasters for the snakes he brought me, one of which he even seized with naked hands before my eyes, affirmed by his silence that he would not trust me, even under the greatest promises of secrecy, with this mystery, inherited from his father. The country of this Shah Maràn is in Turkish Kurdistàn, not very far from Adana, where there are two villages exempted from paying tribute on condition of supplying the snakes there with milk.

Abd-Elliab had himself offered milk to the snakes in that region, and swore that he had seen with his own eyes this King, unless it was a Wokil or deputy, of whom Maràn has many. Abd-Elliab poured his milk into one of the basins there formed by nature, whereupon, in the first place, a large snake, with long hair on its head, rolled out from the hole in the rock, and drank of it. This great chief then retired, without, however, speaking a word to him, as it had done to others; because, at that time, he had not abjured strong drinks. Afterwards other snakes crawled out from all the clefts of rocks, and took the remains of the milk, as being subjects of the former one. The two other Kurds (sing. Kurd plur. Krat), who were not friends with this Koran-hero, vouched for the truth of their countryman’s statement, and gave it as their opinion that the great Maràn only shewed himself to a saint, or a Sultan; and that he had a human face, for that otherwise he could not speak and give advice.

They related, likewise, more credible histories of their country; how their capital city, Nausùd, stands upon a high, impregnable rock, where the Sultan Haidar resides, and has six Bashas under him; that all the warriors wear armour, and are mounted, and that the mountaineers themselves have never been subdued. Then they spoke of their manner of hunting, and their hawking for hares and gazelles, and said that a good falcon costs 2000 piastres. They suffer no Jews to reside in their state, and assert that the latter kill and drink the blood of prisoners, when they happen to be Krat (Kurds).

At half-past four Selim Capitan returned to us, because he thought some accident must have happened; the ships which had preceded having waited for us three hours. Feizulla Capitan, with the same zeal that he read, a short time ago, the Koràn, so that he neither heard nor saw, now sits at his tailoring, and lets the crew do what they like. They therefore never think of exerting themselves and seizing the oar, but draw the vessel forward on the reeds, slinging a rope round it to tow it. We had scarcely made one mile, when the river wound towards the right side from E. by S. to S.S.E., and we saw beyond the reeds, projecting in a sharp angle, the other vessels with their glittering sails.

That the reeds have sufficient strength to encroach in this manner on the path of the river, or that a counterpressure from the left shore, although no tributary stream is visible in the neighbourhood takes place, indicates the weakness of the current. So far it is established, that if a straighter bed here could be assigned to the river, by removing the reeds, it would have a fall, and, by that means, a more rapid flow. These marsh lakes might be made dry at certain seasons of the year, and an immeasurable, fertile, low country would be gained, such, perhaps, as exists not elsewhere in the world. And this cutting through of the reeds does not lie beyond the reach of possibility, if once ideas of cultivation of land spread even here. Some miserable tokuls, on small elevated spots, peep out from the reeds; their vicinity to snakes, gnats, and other vermin, is not to be envied. We follow the course of the river, at four o’clock, towards S.S.W., and set three more oars on, without Feïzulla Capitan’s orders.

Again there is contention among the blacks, who are of different tribes. Prince Mariàn, the serjeant, lashes away in a very vigorous manner between them, with his nabùt, and by his simple look calms the wild, inflamed passions of these Negroes, which neither the Captain, nor Abd-Elliab (if even the latter had been still on board), could have succeeded in doing. They have all a peculiar veneration for this man, whom they call their Mak, and he had needs only express a wish, and it would go hard with us whites.

We soon went S.S.W., and at sun-set, E.S.E. The rowers then rest on their laurels, for Feïzulla must wind up his thread, and he never once looks up to see whether the other vessels are going a-head. At last I myself take to the oars, as well as Mariàn, in order to set the people a good example. The tailor-captain sat up on the deck near the lantern, and had himself fanned, for the gnats will not respect his artistical fingers. He was never vexed at bringing down Selim Capitan’s reproaches, for his tarrying behind, but only annoyed at being obliged, though for a short time, to leave his sewing implements, to which he faithfully stuck, with an incredible indolence and indifference to every thing else. The people rested every moment, and we did not reach the vessels waiting for us, where the river goes S.E., till nine o’clock.

18th December.—Half an hour before sunrise we followed our course towards S.E., and the east wind blew so faintly that it scarcely swelled the sails, and we moved but with difficulty from the spot. My mast-watcher, Fadl, says that a river, from the trees of the left shore, which I see, upon the deck, behind us, towards N.W., enters into the land in a basin far above an hour; that this land is covered with trees, and again approaches the river towards the south, and that many tops of tokuls are visible upon the right tree-less shore, away beyond the reeds and grass, at a distance of two hours. We are therefore again in a lake, wherein this large village, according to his account, lies upon a neck of land which corresponds with the bay of the left bank.

After an hour and a half, we take to our oars, and double, for the first time, a corner towards E., and immediately afterwards to E. by N. The damp yesterday evening was so great that it penetrated our clothes. In the reeds there was continual croaking, chirping, waddling, and springing up of the spawning-fish, such as we had not before heard. Birds also flew over us, uttering a shrill and whistling sound, said to announce a storm. We torment ourselves till eleven o’clock by slowly moving along the right shore of the reeds; and in order to get the crew into some activity, I have forced the tailor out of his shop, for the east wind has become stronger, and the river makes a bend before us to the south, as we perceived by the masts of the ships waiting for us. We sail, therefore, towards the south, to the other vessels, which have already got a considerable start of us. We quit this southern direction at the end of an hour, go for half an hour towards S.E., and then more eastward and E. by S., where again we are obliged to take to our oars. The group of the thirteen dhellèb-palms, which previously stood south of us, retreats to the left shore. We saw here four fishing-huts in the reeds, near which some blacks were occupied in fishing. At noon S.E., and at two o’clock towards E., sailing.

One can scarcely form an idea of the continual and extraordinary windings of the river. Half an hour ago we saw, on the right, the Muscovite’s vessel, and on the left the other vessels a-head on a line with us, separated, however, by the high grass, from which their masts and sails joyfully peeped forth. I could scarcely persuade myself that we had proceeded from the one place, and shall steer to the other. There is something cheerful and tranquilizing in this life-like picture of ships seeking and finding each other again in the immeasurable grass-sea, which gives us a feeling of security. It must be a sight to the people of this region that they cannot comprehend, owing to the distance.

Those sixteen dhellèb-palms have at last approached to within gun-shot. I had counted them four times, and every time found another, so exactly does one trunk cover the other. I do not call them handsome trees, because they stand there in the green wilderness; no, I find them really beautiful, for there is a peculiar charm in them. They rise like double gigantic flowers upon slender stalks, gently protruding in the middle, and not like those defoliated date-palms, which stand meagerly, like large cabbage-stalks. It is impossible that the latter should delight my poor heart, full of the remembrance of shady trees,—the oaks and beech-trees of Germany; the planes near Parnassus; the cypress on the Bosphorus, and the chestnuts on the Asiatic Olympus. About three o’clock we landed on the left shore, and found it dry, to our astonishment, but still green, and covered with high grasses. Near the palms were four ant-hills, on the tops of which we found the wet blue clay worked up. Some miserable tokuls also stood around, but they were deserted by the inhabitants. To my sorrow, I see again a sürtuk destroyed, for the sake of some splinters of wood, merely to keep up a fire the whole night for amusement, on board the sandal,—not to drive away the gnats, for they let the fire burn in a clear flame. Wherever they have the opportunity of displaying their petulance, our blacks also are ever ready. They are not ever ashamed to have always in their mouths the word “Abit,” although they themselves are slaves, and will be so while they live, though clad in the soldier’s smock frock, for the Turkish soldiery have not yet qualified themselves for an honourable condition.

It shews a want of order, nautical policy, and tact, on the part of the commanders, to allow the poor inhabitants of the left shore to be injured. They are said for some days past to belong to the nation of the Nuèhrs. Suliman Kashef has made over some of his own crew to us, to assist in rowing our vessel; but Feïzulla plays tauola (tavola), or backgammon, with a Turk, and thinks, when he does not hear the stroke of the oar, that we are sailing. I had collected some pretty plants near those villages, and found wild cucumbers, without prickles, as well as a kind of aloe, seeming here to thrive on marshy soil. About five o’clock we had to be towed a short distance; then we took a little to our oars, and at sun-set joined the other ships in the east. The river has a depth of three fathoms and about three-quarters of a mile rapidity in the intersection. I appeal to Suliman Kashef to prevent the taking away and hewing up of sürtuks. He himself confesses that the Icthyophagi dwelling here in the reeds, being entirely cut off from the rest of the world, would be lost, as it were, without their fishing-boats, since they can neither swim nor wade through the marshes; he promises therefore to forbid it.

19th December.—We had cast anchor in the middle of the stream, and the right shore was raised above the grass, to the distance of a quarter of an hour; it was quite bare, notwithstanding its row of palm-trees. It is a dead calm, and we do not put ourselves in motion till half-past seven o’clock, assisting the slackened sails by rowing. We bend immediately to the W., and I see before me, to my astonishment, the sixteen palms again standing and the row of palms just mentioned behind us, as well as the vessels preceding us on the left towards the E. Near the palms of the right shore, we remarked not a family, but a small army of elephants, moving slowly here and there under the trees, apparently for the purpose of tasting the dhellèb-fruit. This is not yet grown to its full size, nor ripe; but perhaps they will shake it down by the weight of their body, as I have seen them in Taka, do with the doum-palms. Two elephants were previously shewn me in the country, where we saw the giraffes and ostriches, appearing in the far distance like hills, until they began to move.

At half-past eight o’clock, S.E. by E., north-east wind, but faint, and only one mile and a half course. In the space of half an hour, we shall be advancing to the south, where the other ships are already. The serpentine winding of the Nile would have a beautiful appearance from an air-balloon, striving, as it does, to break a road through the reeds in all directions.

The steersman would often be puzzled what direction to take if we did not push against the stream, which requires labour and exertion. If it were otherwise, they would let themselves drift with “Allah Kerim,” and most certainly would fall every moment with the high water into unknown paths among the reeds, and pass several islands by force, or remain sticking therein.

At half-past nine o’clock we proceed westwards, in order to go again southwards after a quarter of an hour, as we see by the vessels sailing before us. At eleven o’clock to S.W. two miles and a quarter, and at twelve o’clock only one mile and a quarter. At one o’clock the wind has almost entirely died away, when we again turn towards the south. The sixteen palms are still visible behind us, and we must have advanced in little curves, as we see by the vessels behind us, during my short sleep, caused by the nightly epileptic fits of Feïzulla Capitan. Wonderful to relate, we have sailed by them, the captain having roused himself, for a short time, from his apathy. Bushes of high reeds, and little forests of ambaks in Nile grass; before us a long group of palms, which, as Fadl at the mast-head thinks, belongs to the right shore.

From south we make a small bend towards east, and turn a little corner of the left shore of reeds to S.W., where we again derive some advantage from the nearly exhausted wind. I hear from the mast that the left shore winds back to south, and that the right again approaches the river in a semicircle.

For some days past the stream has appeared whitish or clouded to the superficial observer. Viewing it however, through the glass, we find it quite clear. It is also well tasted, which was not the case throughout the marshy lakes. If we find the river, having here a breadth of five hundred paces, and a depth of from three to four fathoms, we continue to ask the question, from whence does this enormous mass of water come?

We have already passed the limits wherein the Mountains of the Moon have been placed. It would almost seem the river is accumulated in a cauldron-shaped valley, the declivities of which encroach with long arms on the African world, and from which the discharge after the periodical rains would be also only periodical. Unless it has an immeasurable tributary stream as an unfailing source from a south-westerly ramification of the Abyssinian high lands, because the level ground, notwithstanding its tropical vegetation, has too little power of attraction to justify such an enormous power of throwing out water by the instrumentality of a lake, under the absorbing African sun.

The breadth of the current amounts generally here to about five hundred paces; its reed-lakes are always at the side. At half-past two o’clock we move slowly S.S.E. with the north wind, which has nearly died away, and set to work with the oars. We are glad that it is a north wind, thinking that it may become constant before the end of this month. Four o’clock. What Fadl said three hours ago is confirmed even now, inasmuch as I see from the deck the right shore more than a quarter of an hour distant, though I am not able from the cabin to look over the reeds. The palms stand here in graceful rows, and satisfy the wandering eye in search of something to rest upon; an isolated dhellèb is also seen far up the river. We sail W. by S., and a skirt of trees with some dhellèbs behind approaches us, but is lost soon again in the distance to S.W. There is nothing to be distinguished on the left shore. Ant-hills are visible in the reeds, among which, in spite of their fresh green, there are dry spots.

On the right shore we noticed a giraffe and twenty elephants, the latter teazed in an impudently friendly manner by white birds, against whom they tossed up their trunks: their tormentors, however, always returned to their heads and high backs, in order to pick the ticks out of their thick skins, like the crows on the pigs in Greece. They appear to me to be the very same birds we saw in Egypt perched on cows and camels. When the last-named animals have old wounds on their backs, they are visited by birds of prey. I was never allowed to shoot them, because the Arabs believe that they pick out only the tainted flesh, and even contribute to heal the wounds, when the unmerciful cauterization of these people proves ineffectual. Mariàn shewed me some trees, of singular shape, having a corolla like that of a cactus. They are called Shudder el Simm, or poison-trees. On the left bank of the river I saw fourteen miserable tokuls upon the partly dried up morass, projecting between the reeds, and various iron pots lying about. They had the usual pointed roof of straw or halfa; the lower wall of reeds was plastered over with morass. Judging from this plaster, which had fallen off three feet high from the earth, the water had only risen here four feet, reckoning the height of the island at a foot. This, the highest water-line, had not been able to carry away an old thatched roof of some four feet high, and six feet diameter.

Beyond these fishing-huts, spread far and wide in the water, is reed grass, overtopped like a bush by high rushes. Now I find it explained why the White Stream on the efflux of these slime-lakes, wherein thousands of animals miserably die, stands in such bad repute in Khartùm, because we found ourselves a short time ago, when in a tributary arm of the river, in a nonplus,—the water being really undrinkable. A microscope might generally give interesting results in these places. The lakes must not be considered as similar to the slime-lakes of the Blue Nile, Rhine, and Rhone.

Sunset, six o’clock.—From the mast the right shore is seen retreating to the distance of an hour, and approaches again before us, whilst the left bank comes near us for a moment, so that a round basin with a wide mouth is created. We hoist sails, and row to S.E. by S.

It is evident that the Nile, which we traverse, in spite of all its circular windings, can never go out of the path of that old shore so often denoted. It is certain that these windings enclose the gigantic bed of the stream in vast curved lines; for the primitive stream could not be arrested by a paltry opposition, as the present one is, even by the reeds. If a journey by land were practicable on the old border of the Nile, the road would be far shorter. The thermometer has now got up to 25°. We stay behind during the night, because the crew will not work any more. Feïzulla Capitan retreats ashamed into the cabin and says not a word.

20th December.—Even before daybreak I went out of the cabin to watch the weather; but the mist which melted away yesterday morning at the rising-sun, did not make its appearance. Nevertheless, I watched for the third time the dawn of morning, and found I could read a printed book three-quarters of an hour before sunrise. The morning dawn is, therefore, not so very short as is generally believed. I had previously remarked this also in Khartùm. We had 26° Reaumur, yesterday afternoon, in spite of the dead calm only 25°. The fall of dew was considerable, and wetted my guns even through the window, which I had scarcely opened. The hippopotami put their heads above water, as if to consider the appearance of our ships.

Immediately after the sunrise a gentle wind arose, directly increasing, however, to a strong breeze, and we sailed from the north, S.W.; but soon rounded a sharp corner of the reeds on the right shore towards E. A group of high rushes of twenty feet high above the water was entwined picturesquely with the blooming convolvulus, which also floated in long tendrils with numerous flowers upon the water, intersected, likewise, by high aquatic herbs and low plants. The water hurries partly in cheerful flowing rivulets through this group, in order to seek the nearest channel. The left shore surrounds us at a distance of half an hour or an hour, in a beautiful arch, with palm clumps and isolated trees, from N. to S. by E.

Our course amounts to two miles and a half, and the rapidity of the river here is generally half a mile. Nine o’clock.—Just as I lift up my eyes, we go again from S.W. to E. by S., and immediately to S.W., where we see some strong trees before us. Half-past nine o’clock, S., then S.W., subsequently S., and then S.E., with four miles’ course.

Once more we see, after a lapse of a long time, a certain number of people, said to form a considerable nation, under the name of Kèks. The little village yonder contains only thirteen wretched tokuls; the pointed roofs are low, and, like the walls, of straw. Among the trees there are some which branch out vigorously, and have a thick green foliage; they are said also to be found in upper Kordofàn or Nuba, where, according to Mariàn, they are called Tihls. Their fruit is long and large, like the pumpkin, and edible. Possibly a Nuba negro may think them relishing; but subsequently, when we found a number of such trees, called by the Arabs elephant-trees, I found the unripe fruit not eatable. The Arabs also, who themselves eat locusts, although not from choice, never eat this fruit even when ripe. Isolated poison-trees also stand round about there. A second village lay back in the reeds. The people were of a livid colour, and naked; they smear themselves, as the Shilluks are said partly to do, with Nile slime, as a protection against the sting of gnats.

It was affecting to see how these poor creatures raised both hands high in the air, and let them slowly fall, by way of greeting. A woman likewise, naked to the girdle, greeted us, placing her elbows somewhat close to her body, and made with her hands, the flat side upwards, the motion of saluting usual also with us. She had an ivory ring round her head, and another round the neck; which last must have been either ingeniously put together, or slipped over her head in her youth. The men wore ivory rings around one arm. A man turned towards his hut, as if inviting us in; another stood alone, lifted his hands, and jumped round in a circle upon one spot.

DOUM-PALMS. | DHELLEB-PALMS. | BAOBABS. | BAOBABS.

A VILLAGE OF THE SHILLUKS, ON THE LEFT SHORE OF THE NILE.

25TH MARCH, 1841.

Our Dinkas (whose language is allied to that of the Nuèhres and Keks), said that they wanted durra from us, and told us that their cows were far away, and would not return till evening. (Durra is called in Bellet-Sudàn, esh, which denotes bread in Egypt, and plainly indicates to the primeval bread-corn of the Egyptians found still in the old tombs; but it is also here used for bread in the Egyptian manner, whilst the pancake-bread is called kisra.) Our Dinkas, as well as Mariàn, asserted in the most positive manner that these Kèks kill no animal, but only live on grains of seed and milk. I could distinguish no hair on their heads, and heard that they coat it with clay, and let it dry in the sun. I greeted them with my hand, and two of them repeatedly jumped in the air, and gave me to understand that they recognised my salute. These must be the real happy Ethiopians, for they seem to lead a blameless life, and they do not even have festivals, like the Homeric ones. I could not ascertain, with certainty, whether this sparing of animal life extends also to game and fish; it was generally asserted, however, that they eat cattle that die a natural death. The latter also is partly done in the land of Sudàn, but not by the genuine Arabs; it is even contrary to the Koràn, to eat a beast struck by a bullet, unless its throat has been cut whilst it yet lived, to let out the blood: this is scouted also by the Hebrews.

At Khartùm, I saw, one morning, quite early, two dead camels lying on a public square; the men were cutting off large pieces to roast, and the dogs stood mournfully around. I myself, with Drs. Fisher and Pruner, helped to consume, in Kàhira, a roasted portion of Clot Bey’s beautiful giraffe, which had eaten too much bersim (white clover): the meat is very tender, and of tolerably fine grain; the tongue appeared to me a real delicacy. I could never acquire a taste, however, for the course fibrous flesh of camels, even when they were young. A German cook might, however, know how to make it palatable by a suitable sauce. We ourselves have dressed very tolerable sauerbraten[6] from the tough beef in Khartùm.

Half past ten o’clock. We row round a corner N.E. by N., and are obliged, owing to the north wind, which is against us in this short passage, to make use of the sandal as a leader, in order to drag after us the Kaiàss. We wind then S.S.W.: the wind has freshened, and we make four miles. At noon a short track to the S.E., but only for a short time, and we halt on the reeds, opposite to the right shore. Thibaut visited and invited me to a Burma of merissa, which he had prepared from Abrè. This Abrè is a very fine kind of bread; it is baked on the usual pan (Docka), by pouring liquid dough of durra meal on it, and immediately scraping it down with a knife; to free it from the clay or iron-pan, some butter is put over it now and then. If a handful of these broken wafers are thrown into a gara, with water, they give a wonderful coolness to what they float in, and a pleasant acid taste. On this account it is the usual drink in the land of Sudàn, and a welcome draught to the thirsty traveller.

Thibaut had made a large Burma of water in a state of fermentation with this fine bread, and let it work for three days, till the bread part had sunk to the bottom. This merissa must, however, be quickly drank, or else it becomes sour. Naturally enough, it was far better than that prepared in the usual way from warm bread, and withal uncommonly strong and intoxicating. Even the finer kind of merissa, called in Sennaar Billbill, is inferior to it. Abrè Nareïn, as the corpulent Sheikh Defalla prepared it for us during the campaign in Taka, and as it is drank by the kings of Sennaar, is only superior to it. This liquor is like beer, and twice put on the fire (Nar), whereby it acquires its name Abrè Nareïn.

Thibaut’s Reïs (steersman) exhibited the first proofs of the intoxicating effects of this merissa, and was persuaded to delegate the task of steering the ship to the former; but Thibaut, who had begun even earlier to test its strength, was still less capable of commanding his vessel. The wind had thrown us, in a trice, towards the other side of the little lake, which forms part of the river. I had previously remarked the dazzling contrast which the water of the basin made, through its dark-blue colour, to our course. We think that we discern in the three segments of that water, three mouths of a river, separated by the reeds. Beyond this, we also see a real water track, coming from S.S.E., which may be a river of less importance, but we could not approach close enough to discover this. It was only with a great deal of difficulty that we got loose again from the reeds, and came into the stream.

We saw Selim Capitan, somewhat behind this little lake, halting at a village; and a man, who was soon after followed by four women, wading through the water and going on board. This village, on the left shore, was called Baiderol, and its Sheikh, Ajà. They gave presents to these people, but could not learn from them the name of the great lake; and were soon obliged to ship off, for all the tribe poured down to get presents of glass beads. These people belonged to the nation of the Kèks, who are always at war with the Nuèhrs. I remarked here a new construction of tokuls; as usual, of reeds and straw, but with flat, cupola-shaped roofs. In the former expedition, the Turks came here also to Shàmata (contention-war) with the natives, because the latter had incautiously fired arrows in the air, which the Turks looked upon as a declaration of war, and therefore shot down several people.

Thibaut read me the description he has given of Arnaud in his journal; and I found in the course of conversation, that we had, in 1822, been together at Philhellenes, in Greece. We lodged close to one another in Tripolizza, when the Greek heroes (who at that time very modestly called themselves Romanians, and were unacquainted with the name of Hellenes) began suddenly to murder, in a base manner, at the Bazaar, fifty-four unarmed Turkish prisoners, who for some time had managed to prolong their wretched existence in the city. We Franks saved three of the wounded Turks in our house, and would not give them up, though the blood-thirsty people collected before the door. On this occasion, Dr. Dumont (familiar with the modern Greek language), and the brave Captain Daumerque, beloved by us all, (subsequently gloriously known in the Egyptian army by the name of Khalim Agà,) distinguished themselves in the manner most honourable to mankind in general, and man in particular.

We remembered very well, that in the everlasting quarrels which took place, the word “Greek” surpassed all other insults, and was inevitably followed by a duel, without any other reparation of the injured honour ever being thought of.

Without the knowledge of my parents, who fancied that I would exchange Bonn for another university, I had travelled with my friend, the now Professor Dieffenbach, of Berlin, to Marseilles. George Thibaut had done the same thing, and thrown up his clerkship in Paris. I found my books, the Pandects of Mackeldey, with the Archbishop of Argos, turned into cartridges, in order that I might beat the Turks blue with the Roman Corpus juris civilis, &c. It was a dangerous and adventurous undertaking. Thibaut went with the other Frenchmen and Italians to Egypt, to offer the Basha his services. I learnt eventually to find out the fellows, who are even now figuring away as robbers, and returned from Smyrna to my dear native land, like an undeceived Phillhellene who had known, however, how to distinguish the unworthy cause of these Synclides. Ten years afterwards I again found the old people in celebrated Hellas, only better laced up and combed, in high Turkish caps.

The river makes from this basin a strong bend to N.N.E.; we had sometimes, therefore, to use oars, sometimes the towing-rope. The breadth of the river, including the reeds, is from one hundred and fifty to two hundred paces. The rapidity of the current below that little lake is one mile; it decreases, however, to half a mile in the basin, and amounts now to one mile and a half. Our course was very troublesome, slow, and so irregular, that it would be difficult to calculate the length of this short passage. We sailed then a short tract to the S.W., then S. and E., rowed N.W., and after sunset to the north, without having advanced further to the south. The latitude is 7° 48′, and the longitude 27° 41′ east of Paris.

21st December.—I passed the night on board Thibaut’s vessel, for mine had remained behind. This morning we worked towards the east. We found in the little lake of yesterday such beautiful clear water as only the Blue Nile displays at low ebb. Its dark water is kept back in a sharp cut by the current of the still high Nile. It may be inferred that the goodness of it arises from a neighbouring spring-lake, or from a mountain-river, the blue water of which may flow, even in other places, imperceptibly through the reeds to the Nile: this is the case also with the Gazelle River. It was a pity that, when we drank of the beautiful water, the village of Baiderol lay behind us. My vessel will not even yet work up; I visit, therefore, the Frenchmen, to inspect the hygrometer. It was about eight o’clock, and the hygrometer shewed 70°: at night, however, it had got up to 75°, and usually went back at noon to 20°: which may be taken as the average in these lakes. For a long time there have been only very few streaky clouds in the horizon, which were scarcely to be distinguished from the firmament.

I saw yesterday evening the first shooting-stars; but none had been remarked by any of the rest. At ten o’clock I jumped on Selim-Capitan’s vessel, who had invited me by dumb show whilst I was with Thibaut, during the dead calm. We sail with the north wind S.E., but the pleasure was soon at an end. Yet no! Selim-Capitan did me the favour of sailing east by north with the north wind; but the oars, however, were obliged to be used to assist us, in order to prevent our running ashore. This manœuvre succeeded; and the others, who had reefed their sails, followed the example. It lasted, however, only a short time, for a strong S.E. wind getting up, threw us on the left shore of the reeds on the right hand.

Selim-Capitan shews far more energy and attention than I should have given him credit for, comprehends everything very quickly, and, with the exception of his Greco-Turkish faults, which I will touch upon afterwards, his character has been entirely mistaken. We reckon our number of miles from yesterday at noon till to-day at the same time, to be fifteen; and find, after the necessary reduction, that we have advanced only two miles in direct line towards S. The land retreats on all sides. From the deck I still discover the dark vigorous trees of yesterday, called by Mariàn Tihl, and otherwise named Shudder el Fill (elephant-tree), the large fruit of which is said to be welcome food to elephants. At noon we towed southwards—a very troublesome labour, for there are sloughs and gohrs on every side in the reeds, which the crew must swim through in order to get firmer ground for a short time. Even this presents many difficulties, owing to the reeds and their great unevenness. Nevertheless, the food of the crew is not so bad as in Khartùm, although for several days we have been in want of meat; thus they are not very much spoiled from their birth upwards. The N.E. wind, which was slack at mid-day, freshens at three o’clock; we sail E.S.E., and in five minutes again S.W by S., and make three miles. But already again we see the river going eastward, and we follow it, really S.E. and E.S.E., and then E. within a short time, for it makes eternal bends here, of two hundred paces, or less, in breadth.

Four o’clock.—To S.; ten minutes after, to W. We see towards the south, on the right shore, from aloft, a small land-lake, the white basin of which denotes some depth, and appears not to be fed by the main stream. We observe in the back ground, two villages, with dhellèbs and other trees, and in the distance other villages upon a bare whitish shore, skirted with some trees. The vessels coming after us reach to our right side, where the left shore ought to lie, a good gun-shot distance from the reeds—and, O illusion and fancy!—the old shore on the right, with its villages and trees, is Sherk (East)—that is, the right shore of the river.—Five o’clock, from S.W. to S. We make only half a mile, whilst the current is not more rapid. At sunset we remark a number of birds, mostly long-shanks, moving in two divisions near one another from west to east, and perhaps repairing to the already more exposed sources of the Nile. Thermometer 17°, 25°—27°, and 22°, at the three different times of the day. The river three fathoms in depth.

22nd December.—I remained last night on board Selim Capitan’s vessel. From S.E., which direction we reached yesterday evening, we now went with a faint north wind to east, and our course had one mile and a half in rapidity. At last I saw on the low ground in the south, a village, with a large tree, apparently a baobàb, and further on the old right shore, with palms and other trees; when,—at half-past eight o’clock,—no more was to be seen of the left shore. At half-past nine o’clock we went to the right shore to fetch wood. The crew landed under a suitable guard, with axes, for we remarked a village in the neighbourhood, and feared the old acquaintance of this people. There were, moreover, no regular trees to be seen here, but only stunted and decayed trunks, standing on or near the countless ant-hills. These serve the natives as watch-towers, as we had already seen, but no person appeared on them. The stumps were said to be torn and disfigured by the elephants; indeed we saw several deep impressions made by the feet of these colossi, for the river had flowed off from hence some time.

The wind has gone round to E., and is very favourable; whereupon we sail also at half-past ten o’clock from this place S.E. towards S., but soon draw to the E. and row; then sail to N.E., and assist with the oars. At noon, owing to the dead calm, we are towed in a south-easterly direction, and at three o’clock we make use slightly of our sails to S.W. by S., and soon afterwards S.E. by S. On the left shore, a long row of isolated trees is visible, also groups of trees themselves, among which, afar off, are distinguished dhellèb-palms. They mark, indeed, as usual, the real old shore, for they do not thrive in the morass, but frequently also they may denote, like other trees, the ephemeral margin of the river. The dhellèb-palms come nearer before us in a wide bend, which, however, may be only so in appearance. The reeds are already on dry ground, and a lower border of the same forms the momentary limits of the river. We remark also here on the right shore of the reeds, where we halt about five o’clock, in a southerly direction, several deep foot-prints of elephants, who have trod down and eaten away every thing, so that only single bushes of high rushes remain. Ant-hills, of eight to ten feet high, rise indeed around, but neither tree nor house—a real elephant pasture-ground.

I went on board Suliman Kashef’s ship, and found there my Feïzulla Capitan again, but in such a state of intoxication, that he fancied I was lost from his ship. He regretted me, and I played also this time again the “achùl el bennàt,” and carried him safely home. It is a wonder that his crew, who have worked themselves tired the whole day, and with whom he is always joking in his Turkish drunkenness, do not thoroughly lose their patience and respect.

23rd December.—Instead of sailing at daybreak with the favourable wind, one vessel went after the other to the left shore, but we soon heard that the vessel of the commander, Selim Capitan, was full of water, having drawn so much during the night, that if the morning had not brought this circumstance to light, it would inevitably have sunk. Biscuit, durra, wheat, and all the other provisions were taken out, and dried on the sails spread on the shore. Sale made a capital shooting excursion, and is very proud of it: he requests his comrades not to shoot any more, for they only throw away powder. The birds are generally the very same as those we found in Taka. I shall return to this subject hereafter.

We could plainly remark near the numberless ant-hills, of eight to ten feet high, and thirty to thirty-six paces in circumference, by the difference of the same vegetation, how far the water has washed over these hills, and how inconsiderably it has reached up to the same, although the whole earth, in which there are many foot-prints, and marks of elephants, rose itself only two feet above the present surface of water. Even here, therefore, where a lake must always disclose itself when the water is at its greatest height, the ascent of the river is only slight, owing to its overflowing in an immeasurable space. In a more extended excursion, I lighted upon a low green plot of ground with water, and as I had remarked from the deck and mast-head, these verdant tracks are found again in the half-dug elephant-pasture. They may be old beds of the Nile, choked up by reeds and slime.

Wild cucumbers were very frequently met with here, and with their yellow flowers, often take the high rushes on the water into their friendly embrace. The under stratum of the ground is formed here also, as elsewhere, by blue clay, mixed with a little sand, whereon a covering of humus lies, the vegetable parts of which are visible in masses, less from their being decomposed by the atmosphere, than from being worked up by the feet of animals. Hygrometer, at eight o’clock, eighty degrees.

24th December.—After everything had been dried and packed up again yesterday, we make, towards the evening, a very short track, in order to secure ourselves somewhat more from the gnats, which have, on the whole, decreased, and we cast anchor. Our clock, put at six at sunset, shewed also six o’clock, when the sun rose S.E. by E. The trombetta (drummers) beat a reveillée at the first tinge of dawn; that is here an hour and a quarter before the sun; yet I could not read for the first half hour.

The whole sky has been clouded since we left the country of the Shilluks; and although they are not our heavy white clouds, the sun cannot penetrate through them. A mist, in appearance like a coast cut off from the horizon, surrounded us on all sides, without visibly extending itself in our neighbourhood. This layer of mist, however, was open from S. to S.W., where the river probably flows, with which the mist nearest to us melted away before daybreak, as I have so often remarked on the Rhine. The hazy streak of the rising sun is splendidly irradiated from E. to S., and therefore deludes us to believe that it is a broad luminous stream, or white lake, contrasted with the dark edge of the sky. I had remarked, the evening before last, a similar misty veil to the east, and, as I expected, there were light mists yesterday morning, before sunrise, on the river, and slowly floating down with it.

We went this morning E.S.E., and at seven o’clock S.W., without having got ahead, for the very feint north wind had not yet made up its mind. One of our vessels sails towards E. in the grass, and appears to have struck into another road, in order to cut us off. Isolated dhellèb-palms on the right shore, and towards N.E. a whole group of them; whilst on the left shore a great wood is visible, drawing into the land, as I hear, from the west. Before this forest shady Tihl-trees, with broad branches, in our neighbourhood; the right shore retreats again here, with its blooming ambak-thicket.

The lakes seem, in some measure, to be at an end; but the gigantic bed of the stream remains, although the old high shores are not, perhaps, to be discovered, for we cannot approach the real dry ground, as the river does not extend so far. This must, however, have been an extensive margin of the river, separated from it, between which, towards the sides, the water flows and ripples in small rivulets, like a meadow under water. It is said that there are no more doum-palms here, although I would take some trees in the distance for them, having, it is true, a stunted appearance compared with those in Taka, but similar to those commonly found on the White River.

Half-past eight o’clock. To S.E. by S.; then an easterly direction, with the usual deviations, and at last S. From the mast is seen, near the before-named shady elephant-trees, a whole herd of these lovers of their fruit,—the white birds on their massive backs, whom they are trying to drive away with their trunks.

About ten o’clock S.E. by E. and S.E. I think I see on the right shore, a small river, discharging itself in the reeds, for the colour in the little basin is different from that of our water. Immediately afterwards, a small village, composed of low, wretched tokuls. A dog looked at us, but did not bark, much as he was teased; he was a large-boned greyhound, such as are seen generally in Taka and Sennaar. This fishermen’s village stands some three feet above the water, and we see by the fresh repairing of the huts with Nile slime, that the river must have washed against this place. Four sails go on the right, at a regular distance W., in the reeds, whilst the vessels sailing a-head in S.E., also look over the reeds, and move towards the E. The ambak-wood continues almost uninterruptedly on our left. About eleven o’clock, from S.W., is an extensive bend to the E., and afterwards to N.E., as it appears from the other vessels. On the right stands an enclosed dhellèb-palm, quite solitary in the wide green lake; and yet it delights the eye as a resting-point, like the sails far and near.

From the undulating eastern direction, swerving to the N.E., where the towing-path is now made through the reeds, we wheel, according to the dear old custom, towards S., in which direction we halt at noon on the right shore, to wait for the other vessels. The north-wind having become stronger since half-past eight o’clock, promises to be favourable for the two windings we see before us. We see over those vessels, towards S.E., clouds of smoke arise in the forest, about half an hour distant, as we did yesterday and the day before. Over the green-flat, to the E., from which bushes of high rushes and ant-hills rise, several dhellèb-palms.

At three o’clock we set sail towards W.S.W., yet soon again S.S.W., and at four o’clock S.E. by S.

One mile rapidity. Five o’clock. To W. On the right thirteen tokuls, which, like the four on the opposite side, near our landing-place, are partly new, partly restored, for the high-water rises above these new shores. There are neither human beings nor anything else living to be seen near the poor, badly built huts. The river navigated by us has here a breadth of some four hundred paces. To the N. we at last observed the vessels which had remained behind, and from yonder the Haba shews itself, with groups of trees jutting out in a circle to some distance; in N.W. smoke ascends in different places: as on the left, to the E., in the far distance over the trees, although no villages can be seen even from the mast.

These pillars of smoke are considered by the crew not as aerial angels of peace and friendship, but rather as a general signal against us. It seems more probable to me, however, judging from analogy with the people, dwelling in Taka, that this kindling of high grasses and pines is done by the tribes of the place to free their territory from insects, snakes, and other noxious animals, or to give air and nourishment to the sprouting grass, in order to make it fit for pasture. In these forest-burnings we must seek for the cause of the bad and stunted condition of the wood.

I thought that the river made a bend to the S., because I saw water there; but they tell me from the mast, that this water is a broad gohr, or Birke, (land-lake). It shews itself a gun-shot distance from the river, and quite parallel to it from E. to W., and is, at this moment, only divided from it by the reeds under water, and an ambak-thicket. A water-course meandered through the rushes to the eastern end of the lake. The crew affirmed that the lake receives its water from the river by this road (sikka): this, indeed, is not impossible, but it is improbable, for the river must propel its current against the water from W. to E. I believe rather that the lake feeds itself from S.W., where incisions are remarked in the reeds, and behind, a long and broad marsh-land. The lake and the river have now an equal level, and there is neither an influx nor outflux to be seen in the so-called little water-road. If it be not an outlet of the lake, discharging its higher surface of water through the reeds, it is a road for crocodiles and river-buffaloes. The broken rushes and the scattered borders of the lower vegetation, &c. make me believe the latter supposition. I have also remarked, at this moment, a large hippopotamus wallowing about there.

There can scarcely be a doubt that this waterpath serves the fishing-boats as a channel. The lake is from E. to W. about an hour long. There may be numbers of such collective lakes and tributaries which the reeds hide from us; for these waters, when the Nile is at its height, do not rush into it, and cannot force a road through the luxuriant and strongly articulated world of plants. These plants perhaps allow a conjunction of water; but no open tributary stream for the rise and fall of the waters takes place at the same time. Fadl tells me that the lake is only twice as broad as the Nile, which is here three hundred paces; and the head of the lake is said to draw towards the south, thereby shewing itself to be an old bed of the river.

No large fish are found here; for if there were any we must have heard them at times in the evening splashing up; that is, supposing they were very abundant in these lakes. However, in the land of the Shilluks several fish of uncommon size, such as are seen in the markets at Kàhira and Khartùm, floated towards us, dead. The crew eat them, although they stank. Standing at the helm, above the cabin, I noticed, before sun-set, seven elephants, with two young ones, feeding on the right in the reed-grass, and, for this once, unmolested by their feathered friends. We halt on account of the faint breeze, towards the west, in order to wait for the vessels, the sun going down before us and throwing all its charms on the limitless watery expanse. Throughout the whole day it had never shone through those misty veils, which appeared so lightly floating.

Feïzulla Capitan has found a new consolation, by establishing a small brandy distillery. For this purpose he used dates, a great quantity of which fruit we carried with us. One burma forms the boiler, and another, with a reed in it, the head of the still. As, however, he only once draws off this araki, there remain too many lees in it to be pleasant; but this does not offend the taste and smell of the bold captain. The thermometer before sunrise 19°, from noon to afternoon 25-26°; after sunset 24°. The hygrometer had fallen from 80° to 30°.

CHAPTER VIII.

ARNAUD’S IGNORANCE AND SELIM CAPITAN’S CUNNING. — HATRED OF THE THREE FRENCHMEN TO EACH OTHER. — THE ENDERÀB TREE. — THE POISON TREE HARMLESS. — REMARKS ON THE LAKES IN CONNEXION WITH THE WHITE NILE. — THE WOOD OF THE AMBAK TREE. — FONDNESS OF THE ARABS FOR NICK-NAMES. — THE AUTHOR DEFENDED FROM GNATS BY A CAT. — INTERVIEW WITH A KÈK. — HUSSEÏN AGA’S DRINKING BOUTS WITH FEÏZULLA CAPITAN. — DESCRIPTION OF A SUN-RISE. — VISIT OF THE KÈKS. — SOLIMAN KASHEF AND THE LOOKING-GLASS.

25th December.—We are still waiting for the Kawàss and Sandal. A man had been given to each of these ships to assist them; but we have gained nothing by it; and therefore Selim Capitan intends to tow both of them. Thibaut and I visited the invalid, Sabatier, who scarcely knew how to keep himself from laughing when Selim-Capitan took upon himself to give lessons anew to the learned Arnaud, who very boldly asserted in our presence, that the “altitudine” and “amplitudine” of the sun were one and the same thing. As we then well understood, Selim Capitan wants Arnaud and he to agree in their calculations, and grudges no instruction to the latter for that purpose. He tells us, that such a coincidence with the French engineer is the more necessary, because the Viceroy would sooner credit the reckonings of a scientific Frenchman than of a Turk, who had never seen Frankestàn. According to Sabatier, Arnaud has not made yet a single calculation, because he is not capable of doing so, but loads his back with these burdens, notwithstanding Sabatier’s feverish state of health. Unfortunately, this appears to be exactly the case, for Arnaud always agrees with Selim-Capitan, who is exceedingly reserved in speech; and therefore it is really fortunate that the Turk, being a naval officer, understands something at least of these matters.

The three French gentlemen mutually conceal their journals, in which one abuses the other; but they each fetch them out from their hiding-places, in order to read them to me, and I am obliged to listen to them. Arnaud lies, as usual, and relates in his journal, that he bought a beautiful slave from a captain—although the black girl belonged to a sailor, and Thibaut, in my presence, played the interpreter when she was sold. He pretends to have been a pupil of the Polytechnic School at Paris, and yet is not capable of writing three lines of French correctly. “In Egypt one must be everything,” Dr. Gand used to say, who studied in Germany, and who, in 1822, was in Greece with me, and the physician in ordinary of Abbas Basha. Europeans appear generally to know this, and therefore exhibit no shame in getting themselves appointed, in Egypt, to situations for which they were never brought up. “Exempla sunt odiosa.”

Still mist this morning, and the hygrometer stood, at eight o’clock, at 78°. We advance about ten o’clock, with a gentle east wind, towards the west. About eleven o’clock, direction S.S.E., one mile’s rapidity of course, and half a mile rapidity of current. Half an hour later we sail westward, in which direction Suliman Kashef has already gone ahead of us. At midday the east wind strengthened and passed over into S.E. We sail for scarcely half an hour S.S.W.; then a very short track to S., where we approach the trees of the Haba, and immediately, W. by N., making three miles and a half in the hour. We remained scarcely five minutes in this direction, as the river winds S.E. A small lake with reed banks, sharply separated from it, lies to the right shore, in this encroaching corner. Probably the river ran formerly through this lake in a straight line, and the angle from S.W. to N.E. was cut off. The S.E. wind is contrary for us, wishing to go S.S.E.; but fortunately this neck of land is dry, and so we take to libàton. Our Dinkas and Mariàn assert that the land here still belongs to the Dinkas, who continue on the right shore still higher up, whilst the Kèks possess the left shore. We go southwards, and anchor at the right shore to fell wood.

In spite of the hot exhalations of the ground, which I felt indeed in my feet and legs, and notwithstanding the heat of 28°, I go a little into the interior of the country. The usual clay soil was under the humus, for the whole surface of the earth was open to it, and full of deep holes or foot-prints of the colossal animals running here. The trees have a sickly appearance, and are old dwarf trees standing upon and round about the ant-hills. These trees are called Enderàbs. The bark is smooth on the old trunk and has nearly fallen off; on the young straight shoots it is rough, and a brownish grey, like in the hazel-tree; the leaf is lanceolated similar to that of the Oleander’s, but light green and slender, with sharply indented borders. The wood is, on the whole, soft, and may be compared to the linden wood. The greatest part of the Haba consists of these trees, which, however, had also previously appeared. The reed-grass was eaten away and trodden down by the beasts. It might, in former times, have caught fire, and contributed to the destruction of this forest.

Four o’clock.—Already the drum has beaten three times for departure; but everything in our vessel remains in the most beautiful state of tranquillity; because the wood-hewers, scattered in the Haba, must be waited for.

The Nile makes here also a circular stream, which is stronger than in the preceding curve, where we were driven, in spite of sailing and rowing, on to Selim Capitan’s vessel. So likewise Suliman Kashef comes upon us, as if he were going to board us, whilst we were lying quite peaceably at the shore. The current of the river is far stronger, and receives below a check by the lake, which may give it additional water, for the islands floating there dance a waltz in front of us before going further. There must be some cause for that. I advance, and see, on the left, another small lake, and succulent green grass, from its shore even to the Nile. This lake stretches from N.E. to S.W. The river makes a bend from our landing-place, which we leave soon after four o’clock, from W. to S.S.W. I am inclined to believe, judging from the yellow reed-grass, that this lake, like the former one, where the crew, when towing, were able to go over the dam, separating it from the river, is closed at its heading, whilst the river flows by it. I remark also, up the country, green tracks of vegetation, possibly covering for a short time, or for ever, the vital veins of the lake. The Haba loses itself, and only solitary trees denote still the right side of the Nile, whilst W.N.W. to S.W. a tract, rich in trees, bounds the horizon. The south extends before us, from S.W. to S.E., without a tree, and perhaps, therefore, has the river-bed in its centre.

The trees of the left side are unfortunately too far for us to distinguish them. The crew think, however, that they must be a kind of date-palms (naghel; the fruit, however, is called tammer, or bellàgh). But Mariàn says that there are many trees on that side belonging to the palm species, but bearing large, beautiful fruit, containing milk, which, he thought, were a species of cocoa-palm. These trees rise with a straight shaft similar to the date and dhellèb-palms; but the top appears to be entirely flat, like an extended fan, or a round table. I had seen also, from the ship, in that forest, some poison-trees: now, I heard dreadful things told of them, that even the scent of their flowers, or a thorn, nearly invisible on them, falling on one’s hand, is certain death, and that the natives poison their arrows with it. This Shudder el Simm is called, in the language of the Nubas, Auer, and I was curious to see the tree somewhat nearer.

With the before-mentioned short course from W. to S.S.W., we came again to the right shore, and to the Haba, where we halted again. I sprang on the shore, which is only two and a half to three feet above the water, as in the preceding place, under the very same appearances, and I found in the poison-tree an old acquaintance of mine at Taka; but with this difference, however, that it might be called here a tree, whilst there it was only a shrub. Both of them are Euphorbias. I had, in Taka, cut off such a cactus-like plant, with its blue-reddish flowers, similar to those of the ushàr (Asclepias procera), and crushed it in my hand, when I punished in the Haba the stubbornness of my donkey, who wanted to join his brothers grazing in the meadow. I had involuntarily touched my lips and the tip of my tongue with the hand wet with the poisonous sap. Notwithstanding all the washing, I for two days found the taste of it quite abominable, without alarming myself the least about it, for I did not consider it more poisonous than the ushàr, the leaves of which are eaten by goats. These leaves, well-known from their intoxicating quality, are laid upon funnel-shaped sieves, in order to strain merissa through them, by which the milk, gushing from the leaves, mixes with the liquor itself.

I made no ceremony of cutting off a branch from a poison-tree fifteen feet high, with the fruit, which are little round knobs, and had not yet come to maturity. The crew were somewhat angry when I came on board with it, and avoided me, till they saw that I laid it close to me on my bed, without the least evil consequences arising from it. Mariàn told me that they prepared the poison from this tree by boiling its milk and the sap, pressed between two stones; when this has become thick, like asside (meal-pap), the arrows are dipped into it.

The wind has left us, and we advance with the assistance of oars, about five o’clock, from S.S.W. to W.S.W. Towards S.W. the oars were obliged to assist the hoisted sails, owing to the faint wind. A small lake shews itself again, as before, on the left, where it goes round in the obtuse corner from S.W. to N.E. This announces here the old direction of the once majestically flowing river, parallel with the forest, to the brink of which these lakes are arranged in a line, one by the other. We go from S.W., around the before-named corner, to N.E., leave the lake mentioned behind us, and have, at sunset, a long row of low tokuls, near which a thick cloud of smoke extends to a distance. Our blacks perceive through the smoke a large herd of cattle. We have wood enough, but for several days have been deficient in meat, and the crew cannot apparently pass without tasting the flesh of these animals. No human form, however, is to be seen on the shore any more than on the right, where we had remarked isolated huts, as well as by the lakes. To the west, behind this village, extends an immeasurable meadow, having mists rising over it, like clouds, whilst a thick layer of mist lies round the whole horizon, which we may consider as an exhalation from the dried-up country.

The new moon is seen and heartily greeted by the Reïs, as a sign of our fortunate journey. Nevertheless, it was two days old, and there was but little merit, therefore, in its discovery by the Arabs, who themselves discover immediately the fine sickle of the new moon, even when the sun is still in the heavens. We moved up to eight o’clock a short distance in S.W., and anchored in the middle of the river to wait for the morning, and with it the hospitality of the herdsmen.

26th December.—We looked in vain this morning for an oblation of flesh, and an embassy on the part of the herdsmen. Therefore, even before sunrise, we moved on with a faint wind from S.W. to N.W. On the left of the right shore a village, but no human beings, and, somewhat forward, a lake in the corner, from N.W. to W.: they told me from the mast that even behind the village there was a lake. It is the very same case with this lake as with the preceding ones. The range of these lakes of the more straight tract, which the river previously followed as the direction most worthy of it, and even now at high-water may renew for a short time, is plainly manifest. Solitary trees stand right and left, more or less removed from the shore; but no high shore is to be seen here, such as the line of the horizon, covered with trees, had deceived me to believe. This dry pasture-land is, at the most, three feet above the water; and even from the trees and high ant-hills yesterday, I could not discover any other tract of shore than that which the separated trees afford, and in the direction of which the lakes follow behind one another.

The bed of the Nile has raised itself here like in all other places, without the shore being proportionably elevated: this is also the case in Nubia and Egypt; for the level ground gives an indefinite extension to the stream, by which it can wallow and carouse in the untried shores; not to mention that this whole territory navigated by us was a fresh water lake. The shore land could not therefore be raised in the manner of downs here by the river, on account of the want of sand or light earth, and moreover, because the river deposits also but little slime, the ingredients of which flow away to the hollow land, and only receive their fertilizing qualities by the process that takes place on their journey.

Eight o’clock.—The faint S.W. veered for a short time to the North, with a slight squall, and we sailed with two miles course from S.W. to S.; but on the left the evolution continues in the form of an arch to E. by S., where we halt, in order to go, libàhn, the wind coming now from the east. The left shore forms a broad edge of high reeds, over which we cannot see. Red and blue convolvulus float and creep around, as well as two species of wild cucumbers, one of which has a large and deep yellow flower; the other, small and pale yellow. Reddish and yellowish flowing beans, and other water-plants, are entwined in picturesque confusion. On the left hand is observed in the distance a single palm, which was previously on our right, so that we can scarcely imagine how we shall get in the old path again. Over an extended, magnificently green savannah prairie of high grass, the melancholy Enderàb forest of yesterday is still visible at a distance: its soft wood is as brittle as glass.

I yesterday split several stems of the ambak already described. I found, as previously, that they are more like a woody pith than real wood. No pith, properly speaking, is distinguished at the first sight, but I now discover that a pith-canal of about a quarter of an inch in diameter shoots through it. The contents were cleared out in the most careful manner by ants, as is generally the case where these insects are in the neighbourhood. The giant rush is becoming less abundant. The ray-formed expanding rushes of the corolla are often two feet long, and branch again into smaller ones, with the usual tendency of the flowers of rushes. From nine to half-past one o’clock, we have only made two miles and-a-quarter with the towing-rope, for the high reeds hung with creepers on the right margin of the river present endless difficulties. It is to be hoped that the N.E. wind which has now set in, will continue for a time, for we make three miles, as we go from E. by S., over S.E. to S. At three o’clock we make a further bend from S. over E. to N.E., yet with the line, where another margin of high reeds gave us the same trouble.

We passed here by some tokuls, which were plundered of everything by the men towing the vessels. They gave me also fruits and lotus-roots, being here as large as pomegranates, and quite fresh; on account of which they were placed on reed-stalks to dry. This fruit is still abundant in the rushy marshes, and very quickly ripens, because we have not seen any lotus-flowers since the land of the Shilluks. They also brought me seeds of the broad reeds called “slaves’ rice.” When we survey the small stock of rice in the corbel, we find that this is not even collected in a mass, and therefore a harvest of grain—that is, of this and similar seeds—must be always very troublesome. The reed-grass here was never trodden down by cattle, and these people may therefore only live by fishing. Two fish, large of their species, the Bolti (Chromis Niloticus), a favourite with every one in Khartùm, lie on the shore, and must therefore not be quite fresh, as the Egyptian wolves let them remain. A dark brown thick felt cap, found there, was well adapted by its globular form to make a blow with a club less sensible or entirely harmless. At four o’clock we sail a short track S. by E.: see on the right and left small fishing-villages, and, indeed at this moment shaded by the reeds. The surface of the earth is here clearly somewhat higher, and therefore was dried sooner. The extreme margin of the shore was, near the plundered village, from two and a half to three feet high; whilst that towards the huts was one and a half or two feet higher, and formed a kind of low dike. A subordinate river, choked up with mud, and appearing to be used as a fish-pond, lies behind the huts on the right shore. We have soon at our side a second village with two geïlid-trees, as well as a deserted river-bed for fishing in; for we see at the lower end a ditch, serving, after the high water has receded, for the letting off of this fish-pond.

Beyond this village we perceive some trees, near which the smoke rises up in several places. The last little hamlet consists of fourteen tokuls, and the people are seen afar off amid the grass hastening to five other tokuls by the reeds. The inundation seems here altogether to cease, and the medium height of the water to have commenced for some time. A vigorous smoke, like a wide-spread steam of slaughtering, delights our crew. They hope to be able to regale their stomachs with the delicious roasted morsels, enveloped by these clouds of smoke, and protected against the insects. We wind an ell’s length to the right S.W., and over S.S.E. to S.E., and immediately again to W.N.W., where we have at five o’clock a large island, in the shape of a half-moon at our left, and we go then in a bend to the East. The border of the island consists of reeds continually running into the river, with their beautiful wreaths of flowers in dentated points; whilst the ambak forms, in the direction of the interior, gently ascending hills and woods, which, with their fresh green reeds, promise more than they may be able to keep. The floating islands are always meeting us or driving by us, and afford us, on the whole, the best proof that we have not yet escaped the marshy regions. I have been seeking for several days, but in vain, a small-leaved water moss, on account of its elegance, in order to put it again in my collection.

The wind at last, having veered to the north, is nearly quite spent, and we go from an easterly direction, shortly before sun-set, to the south. The before-named island seems to have a considerable breadth, according to the account from the mast. The river winds again eastward, and we halt immediately after sun-set, having left behind a well-built village, containing fifteen tokuls, to wait for the Kaiass and the sandal, which we had abandoned again to their fate. The Turks hoped, however, that there would be some people in this village, as it shewed signs of prosperity, and that they would come to us, to make our worthy acquaintance; but they were deceived, for the natives appeared to have fled from hence far and wide.

The Arabs are fond of giving nicknames, derived either from the figure, or some other distinction and manner of acting, to which they prefix the word Abù. The Kurd, Hüsseïn Aga, has distinguished himself for a short time, by drinking merissa, which he prepared on board his vessel; for he found the time hang heavy on his hands, as he told me, and was vexed that his vessel was always behind. He was therefore called Abù Sofaia,—the latter word being the name of the sieve for merissa. If a pair of them wanted to teaze each other, they began to ask, reciprocally: “Your father, what is his name?” “You, what is your name?” then followed jeering, abusing, and scoffing. They do not fail, in addition, to use the coarsest words, if the Turkish listeners are pleased at it. On the sun setting, the new moon turned both her horns in equal height to the heavens, and Venus shone immediately over it, exactly similar to the Turkish escutcheon. This symbol appeared to me more suitable than all our heraldic compositions.

For the last two nights the gnats have been very troublesome, notwithstanding that a small cat, which I have not yet seen by daylight, seems to find particular pleasure in licking my face all the night through, pulling my beard, and purring continually, thus scaring away the gnats. The cats, however, in Belled-Sudàn are generally of a more savage nature, apparently arising from the unkind treatment of the people: they go even into the hen-roosts, and the strongest fowls are lacerated by them; but they meddle very little with rats and mice. The Baràbras, especially those of Dòngola, like them for eating; not so, however, the Arabs, who do not persecute them, because the cat is one of the favourite animals of their Prophet, but yet hold them unclean. The sky was cloudy to-day, as it was yesterday and the day before.

27th December.—Set out immediately after sunrise towards N.N.W. The sun rises of a dark red colour, exactly behind us, out of the river, into the red humid atmosphere, and yet there is the main direction of the river; we have, therefore, a real labyrinth of circuitous routes to work through. If yesterday, no object disclosed itself in the south, for the eye to rest upon, so now in the left, the arm flowing round the island is only to be seen; there is nothing besides but reeds, and the water which we are navigating. The high reeds may, it is true, here and there conceal from the eye a tree or a hut, because, on the whole, we go lower between the dried-up shores. The N.E. wind is slack, and we assist the sails by rowing in S.W., where, about eight o’clock, a small village of twelve tokuls starts up, on the left side of the river, the river coming from S.E. A dog barks from the neighbouring reeds, and betrays the hiding-place of the people who had fled, which the blacks, accustomed to similar signs, corroborated, and wanted even to shoot into the reeds. Our Abù Hashiss barked lustily against the animal, and it really appeared as if several large and small dogs were barking.

About an hour’s distance beyond the village some trees are to be seen; whilst, on the left, where the river now winds to S.E., we do not observe anything. This also appears to be a fishing village, for we do not remark any trace of the tread of cattle in the grass. These poor Icthyophagi have, according to their usual custom, wretched huts, and their tokuls are also partly plastered with Thin. This thin, or Nile slime, naturally affords a good material for plastering the reed walls. It would be good for airstones, if these should be generally considered a suitable building material in places where the violent periodical rains of the tropics only too often shew the contrary. I myself have experienced this in Khartum, where in one night some thirty houses fell. The storm of rain was so violent, that it broke through the wall of our bed-room, three feet thick, built of airstones, and in a short time tore an opening the size of a window. It was only with the greatest difficulty that I was able to save my brother (the servants being at a distance), by carrying him away. He was dangerously ill at the time, and, bursting out into a clear loud laugh, vigorously resisted my endeavours to lay him upon a table under the door-way, in order that he might not be buried by the fall of the roof.

The whole horizon is without a high tree; only the ambak covers, in small thickets, a great part of the island, which is still drawing nearer to us. The ambak appears here considerably higher and stronger, to which the warmer climate, together with the earlier inundation and the growth thereby produced, has mostly contributed. On the return voyage I will try to procure, at all events, seeds of it; for I am really curious to see, at some future day, this new species of tree, the ambak, in my own native country, even should it be in a hot-house. Although it may not thrive and grow as quickly with us as here, yet I am quite sure that its incredible productive powers will excite the more astonishment, because its many large flowers and great succulent acacia-like leaf, make it an ornamental tree.

The current of the river was tolerably strong this morning, and amounted to nearly one mile. This difference depends simply on the many windings of the river, a greater or less fall could be scarcely followed up in a single one. The medium for these parts may remain always half a mile. As we see here all the corners of the shore, without exception, still in the water with their reeds, it may be supposed that there is also a more shallow river-bed. Vegetation grows from beneath and the side into the river-bed, and the reeds advancing in out-and-in bending angles, make the first step to press and encroach on the river. Slime always sticks to the corners of these angles, and depositing and rising up from beneath, spreads again its own vegetation.

I see here water-thistles, with lanceolate leaves, and reddish flowers of the thickness of a finger, exactly as are seen in our fish-ponds. Green water-lentils cover the sides of the stream, and are a plain proof of the stagnating water flowing off in it. At half-past eight o’clock I hear from Fadl, at the mast, that we are sailing to the south; that there is a large lake with a village towards the E. and in the S.E.; also a large lake on the before-named island, of which the former is a quarter of an hour, and the other half an hour distant from the river. He is not able to see the other arm of the river along the right shore, and therefore it has either lessened in breadth, for previously at its conflux it was broader than our water-course, or it is very far distant; for Fadl remarks trees on the right shore, from two hours and a half to three hours distant, which may be standing indeed on the margin of the river, whilst its water may be concealed by the ambak thickets.

Yet it is said that this land approaches in a bend towards the south. Also on the left is seen, in the neighbourhood of the river, W. by N., a small lake and a large wood, stretching up the country. We go with our N.E. wind, at nine o’clock, from S. to E. The river forms here a broad bay, and we lay-to at the left shore, four hundred paces from which a village is found, containing about thirty tokuls, but indifferently built, because each individual erects his house to suit his own convenience, and takes no trouble to beautify it, but creeps through an oval hole—the general doors of the huts on the White Nile.

The reeds were burnt down all round, yet the thick green stalks had withstood the fire, although they were all covered with black ashes. One of the natives remained quietly standing on the shore, in order to accurately survey us strangers. Soon after a great number of our men collected around him, seeking to make use of him as their bearer, with a flag of truce, in their favourite meat transactions.

I sat down with Suliman Kashef and Selim Capitan on the ashes, with the negro, who was of a livid colour, owing to the ashes on which he had slept. He told us, with the assistance of our Dinkas, to whom he could make himself intelligible, that he had swam through the river, to visit his brother in the neighbouring village, from which every one had fled; that his hut was on the right shore, and that he was a Kèk, like these here. The crowd became too strong for him. The black looked about him, perplexed; but was, however, persuaded to come with us on board Selim Capitan’s vessel. When he approached the cabin, bending his body forward in a comically awkward and ape-like position, perhaps to denote subjection, he slid round on the ground, dropped on his knees, and crept into it, shouting repeatedly with all his might, “Waget tohn agèhn, agiht agiht-waget tohn agèhn, agiht agiht,” by which words he greeted us, and expressed his astonishment. He had several holes in the rims of his ears, containing, however, no other ornament than a single little stick. Strings of beads were brought out and hung about his neck; there was no end to his transports; he struck the ground so hard with his posteriors, that it resounded again, and raised his hand on high, as if praying. When I bound a string of beads round his wrist, he could not leave off jumping, at such an invaluable ornament, and never once kept still; he sprang up, and threw himself down again, to kiss the ground; again he rose, extended and contracted himself, held his hands over all our heads, as if to bless us, and sang a very pretty song, full of the simple melody of nature. He had a somewhat projecting mouth; his nose and forehead quite regular, as well as the cut of the face itself; his hair was sheared away short, to about the length of half an inch. He might have been about thirty years of age; an angular high-shouldered figure, such as we have frequently perceived among the Dinkas. There were two incisors wanting above, and four below, which is also the case with the Dinkas; they pull them out, that they may not resemble wild beasts. His attitude and gestures were very constrained, arising, perhaps, partly from the situation in which he found himself; his shoulders were raised, his head bent forward in unison with his bent back; his long legs, the calves of which were scarcely to be perceived, seemed as if broken at the joints of his knees; in short, his whole person hung together like an orang-outang’s. Added to this, he was perfectly naked, and no hair, except on his head, to be seen. His sole ornament consisted of leathern rings above the right hand. What a grade of humanity is here! This poor man of nature touched me with his childish joy, in which he certainly felt happier than any of us. He was instructed to go forward and tell his countrymen not to fly before us, honest people. Kneeling, sliding along, jumping, and kissing the ground, he let himself be led away by the hand like a child, and would certainly have taken it all for a dream, had not the glass-beads convinced him to the contrary.

Ten o’clock.—The east wind has splendidly freshened, and we sail S.E. by S. delightfully. We flew by a small village, of ten to twelve tokuls, on the island, and make six, or rather only three miles; this pleasure lasting only half an hour. The river winds towards E., and the crew again take to towing, one leading the choir, and the chorus repeating its usual “Ja Mohammet.” After eleven o’clock we sail, however, again, and with the assistance of oars, E.S.E.; soon S.S.E., and then W. by S., where we make five miles and a half. There is an everlasting tacking about, and with it bawling, abusing, and shouting. We turn, because we see the vessel a-head turning, without system and without advantage, for this terrible careening, with the tedious shifting of the sails every short distance, only wastes time. Feizulla is squatting again with Selim Capitan, who is not very delighted at his company. It is the devil to be shut up with such simpletons in a cabin, to undertake journeys with Turks, and, for my future recreation, to be obliged to converse with insipid men, whose spite at not being able to say just what they like in their journals, as they would do, were I not with the expedition, I plainly see.

Twelve o’clock.—To south, six miles, and only too with the mainsail. A fire extends before us, probably lighted reed-grass. This stands close to us, being a height of twenty to thirty feet, and in brown silky ears, whilst the grass and broad reeds are not so far advanced. Unfortunately the river winds again E.S.E., and at one o’clock libàhn to E. Sloughs and deep recesses of water are close to the river, and run parallel with it.

Half-past one o’clock.—Fadl tells me from the mast, that the large island before mentioned, turns out to be a peninsula. The other arm of the stream approaches again our river, with the right shore, but its water is lost against the ascending surface of its river bed; however, it may at high water, have flowed over this, although it is not shewn by any remarkable hollow. This arm is also choked up above, though it has preserved the lower part of its bed. If we only think of this large horizontal water-line, from the foot of the island up to the damming up in our neighbourhood, we see plainly how melancholy it must look at the fall of the White Stream. The right side of the river is close to us, and the wood on the left, perhaps containing here the old tract of the shore, is, as Fadl tells me, nearly three hours’ journey off. He calculates distances correctly, though always at something less than myself, for he has longer legs, and is of the active race, who run in their journeys to water and bread with as much goût, as we to the outstretched arms of an inn.

Where the river winds to S.E. a group of small ambak and grass islands enter into the landscape; thousands of birds enliven a lake, the two tributaries of which draw in to the east, and from the east to south. I hear, however, from the mast, that they are neither tributaries nor arms of the Nile, and soon come to an end. A trace of a more extensive gohr or rain-river discharging itself here, and now, perhaps, dried up, to which supposition we are led, at the first glance, cannot be followed by the eye. These are, perhaps, indeed, old arms of the Nile, now choked up and grown over; the sluggish stream may not be able to cover them again, but overflows them at high-water. Creepers and flowers fantastically entwined hang around on the margin of the reeds, behind which the high ambak-trees stand, also in flower.

Two o’clock.—S.E. wind, good and strong; but it forced us to use the towing rope till half-past two o’clock, when we sail from S. to S.S.W. Constant north winds, such as are blowing at this moment in Khartùm, do not occur here at this time; however, this everlasting change of wind is, at times, advantageous to us, from the extremely varying course of the river. The wind falls—the drum beats for libàhn, when the wind from N.E. allows us again to stretch sail, in order to go to the south. This is, however, but a short pleasure, and the rope is obliged to be had recourse to, when we go, about half-past three, east by south; where, right and left, is a village in the reeds.

Four o’clock.—From E. to W., S.E., S.S.E., and from S. to S.E., all in an hour, in nearly equal sections of time. At five o’clock, a city on the left shore, but the smoke extending near it, does not proceed from herds, but from the kindled reeds. At six o’clock, near sunset, on the left shore lagoons and birds; five men are standing close to them, but do not approach nearer. Towards the south of the village we remark a lake, which receives its water from the river, and is a broad, old river-bed, stretching from W. to E. The lower end is choked up with slime and rises only a little above the present level of the water. We halt, and the eastern horizon is illumined with the visible flames of the reeds.

28th December.—The bustle of departure awoke me before day-break. No mist is to be seen, and even the ram’s skin of the Turkish Gideon, Hüsseïn Aga, stretched out before the cabin, is but slightly wet. He had remained with us the night, in order to help Feïzulla Capitan (who even seeks to stimulate his thirst by eating anchovies in rancid oil) to drink his wretched dram made from dates. Gnats do not appear from without; the old guests from the reeds were soon killed. With a gentle N.E. wind we steer towards S.S.W. Even before sun-rise we see on the left a village of thirty-six tokuls, on the slope of a hill. This has been formed, perhaps, by the hand of man from the first dam thrown up. Judging from the houses still falling to ruin, the clay walls of which remain, it may have ascended to a height of twelve to fifteen feet. The river has full play here in the free level field, yet its power of rooting up, through the falls, is so little, that it is not able, with the want of sand, to pile up Downs. The roofs of the tokuls run, indeed, to a point, but their superficies is cut away into ring-formed layers, so as to form steps. The roofs are elevated to an unusual height. The oval doors look, as usual, towards different directions, for they serve also as windows. One looks straight to the river, another up the river, and the third wants to see what is taking place down below. I have not seen any doors looking towards the country. The high water seems here to have done mischief to the lower huts, as we see by the make-shift ones which have been erected in all haste. Inland, on the left shore, a village shews itself for a moment, through an aperture in the high reeds.

I looked upon the rising sun with the blissful heart and kindly humour that Nature, in her majesty, calls forth with irresistible power. Dark brown clouds covered the place where he was to disclose himself in all his glory. The all-powerful light of the world inflames this layer of clouds; ruffled, like the billows of the ocean, they become lighted up with an indescribable hue of blue Tyrian purple, from which an internal living fire beams forth on every side. To S.E. by E. a vessel dips its mast and sails into this flood of gold. Filmy rays and flames of gold display themselves in the centre of that deep blue curtain, the borders of which only are kindled with luminous edging, whilst the core of the sun itself, within the most confined limits, sparkles through the darkest part like a star never to be looked upon. At last he rises, conquering all the atmospheric obstacles of the vaporous earth; the latter stand like clear flakes of gold, attending him on the right, whilst two strata of clouds, embedded in each other, draw a long beautiful train to the north, ever spreading and dissolving more and more. I write—I try once more to embrace the mightiest picture of ethereal life, but the ship has, in the mean time, turned, and the sails cover the sun, so as not to weaken the first impression. There are moments, truly, when one is, as it were, a god; but this god-like feeling lasts, in its entire strength, only as long as the external impression, which the inmost persuasion rather weakens than strengthens. Cheerfully, and with a fresh heart, I settled myself there in a vernùs, on my little bamber, before the cabin, to a soothing sleep, where dreamy pictures of my home delighted me. I drank my coffee even before sun-rise, (18° Reaumur,) and filled my pipe a second time, for tobacco also has a great deal to do with beginning the day in good humour.

With a faint north wind we advance for some minutes N.E. by S. A light mist, thrown over the horizon, rises high to the heavens, and melts away. Neither land or tree is to be seen, for the village is an island in the verdant sea, extending boldly in all shades of green, and to an immeasurable distance. About seven o’clock N.E. by E., and in a bend to W. Wild geese fly here and there, but they scream, and are therefore not roasted. Even I feel inclined for meat.

At 8 o’clock, three villages appear in the south. From N.N.W. we turn a sharp angle to the south. The creepers form, from the shores already deserted by the water, a beautiful rim of flowers down and into the stream. We row and sail slowly round the before-named corner, not to S., but to S.S.E., as the wind somewhat freshens; immediately, however, S.W. by W. and a short tract S.E.; but, about nine o’clock, to N. with Libàhn. The north-east wind has set in with such strength, that we can drift along without sails for half an hour in a south-westerly direction. At ten o’clock, to N.E. Libàhn; and at half-past, to S. in a bend—God knows where—to W., and again without sails. We make five miles, when the fore-sail is let out in a slackened bow. To the right—still in the bend mentioned just now to N.W., and in this direction we have a pretty long tract before us.

Happy are those who have time, or take time, to sleep, when they feel inclined: I really must praise myself for holding out, from early in the morning to late in the evening, sometimes aloft, sometimes below, with such a continual scribbling of “on the right,” “on the left,” and describing all kinds of winds and weather—which is perfectly necessary, but may be as tedious to my future readers as it is to myself. From N.W., with some trouble, Libàhn to E. At twelve o’clock we sail gradually to S.E. and S., and make five miles, although the river has one mile rapidity; but at half-past twelve E. by S. and S.E., and at one o’clock again E. by S.; at half-past one S.S.W.; a quarter of an hour later S.E. by S.

“Bagher, Bagher-ketir!” I hear murmured and shouted, and every one runs upon deck. On the distant margin of reeds, several cows were noticed. Suliman Kashef stood with his great telescope on the top of his cabin, to discover the enemy, who were slightly concealed. The crew were really like madmen; I was also very glad because my wild-goose, which I had winged some days before, and which Fadl drew out of the water, in spite of its diving, was now out of all danger of being slaughtered, for it was to have been Communistically divided like a solid ponderabile. Fires burnt in the distance, and reed-straw was already consumed, even behind the broad reedy margin of the river, but, as everywhere else, too early, for it was yet quite green; but the poor people want to rid themselves of the gnats and other vermin, and therefore burn it away directly it is combustible. We landed, therefore, soon afterwards, at two o’clock. Allah had certainly sent us the cows, as the good Muslims thought. We assembled on board Selim Capitan’s vessel, and I was really eager to come into contact with the natives. A tolerably intelligent Dinkaui was sent ashore as Tershomàn (interpreter), where he shouted in the distance. Soon some people appeared; but the Arab wolves rushed down from the vessel, and the natives fled for the second time. Under threats of the bastinado, our men were recalled to the ships. It was not long before ten bullocks, of beautiful form and clear colour, and goats of a very fine breed, with compressed faces, were driven near to us. Nearly all the latter were distinguished by incisions, or recisions of one ear—not exactly announcing a communio bonorum.

The inoffensive livid-coloured negroes accompanied the Tershomàn on board the vessel where we were,—they were five in number, two old men, and three young ones: they made gestures, in their perplexedness, bending forward in the attitude of apes. I remarked on the two old men short grey hairs in the ashes on their heads, but there was not a single hair to be discovered on the bodies of the young men. They were naked, and had leathern and iron rings on their wrists, as well as adorned round their necks with rings made of skins. With uplifted hands they greeted us humbly, and screeched with a fearful voice, “Tebing conjegò,” which one sang, and then “Tebing conjegorarèmemm” was repeated in chorus, and so often that I was nearly stunned with the noise. The leader of the choir was the son of Abù: and this word seems here to denote “elder of a family,” or Sheikh. He was called Tshòli, and his village Dim; he was therefore Tshòli-Dim, of the nation of the Keks. His son, Gilowaï, was exceedingly delighted when he heard us pronounce his name, and screamed it, as if he were mad, in our ears. The others were called Rialkoï, Panjàil, and Ialkoï. Red calico shirts were put on the father and son; but, owing to their uncommon height, they did not entirely cover their nakedness. This naturally vexed them but little, and perhaps, if it had been otherwise, it would have incommoded them: they viewed the beautiful flowers on these shirts, pointed with their fingers at them, and were very much pleased. White shirts were put over the heads of the others; and this was no little labour, although they were simply made according to the Turkish cut; for these men moved their arms here and there, and could not reconcile themselves to such splendour, which perhaps was afterwards consumed in fire and smoke on the nearest ashes. But when the glass beads were produced, then came the joy, the singing, and shrieking without end; they uttered the resounding words with which they praised us with as much force as if there had been the most horrible strife. Looking-glasses at last were given to them; and they could not at first distinguish their faces, owing to the shadow; but when they found how to hold them at the proper distance, they were always looking behind them to see where their black brother might be. Yet the possession of these shining toys was dearer to them than the use of them, or the pleasure of looking at themselves for an hour long in the glass, as the Turks do. They must take a similar delight, only in a greater degree, in looking in the water; and therefore their astonishment was not so great: they even asked what they were used for. Whereupon Suliman Kashef took a glass in his hand and smoothed his beautiful beard by it: they understood, and laughed. Their train of ideas was not guided, indeed, by philosophical reflections at this sight, or they certainly would not have laughed at our vanity, for they themselves, beyond all people, are fond of empty toys, tatooing, and ornaments.

At sunset we set sail to S., and soon S.W. Level meadow-land: the trees in the background, being thrown by mist into the distance, have the appearance of a connected forest. I know from places seen before, where it even appeared more thickly covered, that this deceptive forest is without shade. The eye fancies that it discovers clouds threatening rain in the sky—a vain longing for one drop of rain.

At the rainy season, according to the assertion of our blacks, the rain falls here in indescribable streams, and a single drop (to use an Arabic comparison) is as thick as a musket-ball. Subsequently to these violent showers, innumerable shallow lakes may be found in many places, swelling up, and at last pouring their water into the Nile. The character of an emptied lake-basin is expressed in the whole stream territory. We have already seen remains of such shallow lakes, which may be in connection with others in the interior. The hypothesis set up,—that of making the White Stream spring from great lakes,—may therefore be partially confirmed by this circumstance; although this cannot be extended to the united Nile, for both rivers increase and fall at the same time. On the left, the shore is raised a little above the water. To all appearance, it was only overflowed for a short time at the season of the inundation, for the vegetation is extremely scanty, and now dried up.

CHAPTER IX.

TURTLE-DOVES. — DESERTION OF BLACK SOLDIERS AND PURSUIT OF THEM. — INTERVIEW WITH NATIVE WOMEN. — GIGANTIC STATURE OF THE KEKS. — THEIR PASSION FOR GLASS BEADS. — FEIZULLA CAPITAN’S QUARREL WITH A SUBALTERN OFFICER. — SYLVESTER’S EVE. — A “HAPPY NEW YEAR.” — VILLAGE OF BONN. — WANT OF SHADE IN THE FORESTS. — CURIOUS TATOOING AND CUSTOMS OF THE NATIVES. — A WOMAN’S VILLAGE. — MODESTY OF THE WOMEN. — MEAT BROTH. — REPORT OF HOSTILE INTENTIONS OF NEGROES. — FRENCH EXPEDITION TO EGYPT UNDER NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.

29th December.—We sailed quite early this morning, scarcely half an hour, when we found ourself at a place called by the Arabs “Mattrag betal Mutfa,” or “Place of Cannons,” because, in the former expedition, a cannon was lost here in the water. Here we were to rest some days, in order to make immense astronomical calculations, which may be, truly, a complicated labour for the great “Ingenia.” A shooting excursion after the numerous birds was much more pleasant. The left shore was here four feet high, and I believe that the water of the Nile has only stood in the still green and marshy low hollows which, like rivulets, run parallel to the stream. What we looked upon at a distance as a forest (called Haba), turns out to be misery itself for a German. In vain we seek shade here, where the half dried-up trees, mostly dwarfs, always stand some hundred paces from one another. Here also the long, thick-stalked grass was burnt away, and a young grass, which otherwise would have wanted air, now sprouted in plenty from the earth. The trees are, for the most part, a species of mimosas, called talle. I had only gone about on the shore a few paces, when I came to the full conviction that there must be capital shooting here. I returned, therefore, on board, but there was neither gun nor servant to be seen. They had gone shooting, to spare me the trouble of exerting myself. One after the other came back, and brought birds, but, whilst I was looking at them, they were off again. I could not be angry, much as I might have wished to be. Among the turtle-doves are found even the Egyptian (Columba Ægypt), called gimri; but still more the larger gumri (C. risoria, Linn.; also C. collaris, Hemp and Ehrbg). The turtle-doves with the long tail and black stomacher (C. caprensis), seem not to present themselves here. A brownish eagle, with a white head (Falco vocifer), a white and dark grey ibis (I. æthiop and I. Hagedash); a crane, with black velvet crest and golden nimbus, grue royale (Grus pavonius), appeared to be the chief among the birds found here. The white birds sitting upon the backs of the elephants, and fishing there on dry land, are small herons, and exactly similar to the Ardea Coromandelica, with the exception of the yellow bill and feet.

The vessels are washed out and cleansed; the bread-corn, which had become somewhat damp, is brought out on hand; and we leave our goods and chattels out of doors, relying on the good-natured Keks, who have not hitherto shewn themselves armed. Towards evening I went a tolerable distance to shoot, and had nearly lost my way in returning; for in seeking the nearest road to the vessels, I fell into the marshes. I had not one of my servants near me, because they were occupied in preparing the birds. Scarcely had the sun set, when a mist rose up around the great plain on which the reeds were burnt away, but that magnificent luminary remained free from it; for the ground here, being dried up by the fire, has no exhalations. Even at a little distance, the trees appeared of a dark blue colour. On the second morning, however, even the burnt place was wet, and my feet were as black as coals, when I returned from it.

30th December.—Abd-Elliab, the Kurd, had had the watch on shore, except the night posts on the ship, whilst we were asleep, and sixteen men from the Nuba, and the surrounding country, had deserted from him. These unhappy creatures being so far from their home by water as well as by land, with only a small stock of munition, must fall sooner or later into the power of an enemy, and had, therefore, as it were, surrendered themselves to death; for hunger, thirst, and ignorance of the road, could only prepare for them a very deplorable fate. An unbounded love for home could alone have induced them to expose themselves to such jeopardy; and they instinctively hastened to it, like a horse taken from the chase.

I had already been in the morning on a shooting expedition, but was obliged to return, in order to clean my gun, which Sale, in spite of my constant admonitions, only very carelessly attends to, because he is always hoping that it will not miss fire. It was now determined that the deserters should be pursued, and First Lieutenant Hüssein Agà commanded on this occasion. In order to see something of the country, I joined with two of my servants, though I wished the blacks, who had only run away from slavery, a happy return to their native country. Even Hüsseïn Agà, though a Turk, agreed with me, for he did not wish to come upon them. The sun rose higher and higher, and we left the Haba, affording us here and there for a moment a shady tree. I determined not to expose myself any more to this forced march, and to return; but Hüsseïn would not let me go from him, because he must be answerable for my safety;—however, he offered me half of his men as a protection on my road back, which I refused, not believing that there was any danger. When the ground permitted, I stayed behind with my huntsmen in a dry gohr, and followed it upwards; whilst Hüsseïn, with his Egyptians, who would have murdered without mercy the run-away soldiers, or rather the slaves seeking again their freedom, was soon out of our sight with his long legs.

We saw two villages, and repaired to the larger one to get water or milk. There were no men to be seen, but they had left their wives behind, who shewed themselves very friendly towards us. They were of moderate stature, and two of pleasing physiognomy. This indeed was not improved by the four lower incisors, and here and there another tooth, being wanting, and also the hair of the head being kept quite short. The circumstance of two upper incisors being wanting to the first Kek, was only an accident, as I had already remarked in those we had seen since. Their foreheads were tattoed by three strokes, or rather incisions, rising horizontally from a vertical cut in the middle of the forehead, and extending to the temples. They had also a hole in their ear-laps, but neither a little stick nor anything else in it. They wore iron rings around the hand, and skins covered their hips. Some had a circle of the bark of trees round their heads. They spoke confusedly, much, and in a loud tone, and might have related many pretty things, of which, however, we understood nothing. One passed her hand over my countenance, then looked at it, and wetting her finger with her saliva, she tried my skin to see if it were coloured. She fetched us black bread, of a somewhat sweetish taste; also green tobacco, and gave us water in a gourd-shell.

I was surprised at not seeing either children or marriageable maidens; but whilst the women were occupied with me, as with a white man browned by the sun, Sale had discovered a tokul where the girls were shut up together. It was with difficulty that I could keep him back from opening the low door closed by split trunks of trees;—the women recognised this conduct of mine very gratefully by their gestures and dances. It appeared to me, moreover, unadvisable to awaken mistrust; for they might only too easily have taken us for kidnappers; and the men, who carried bows with poisoned arrows, were perhaps nearer than we imagined, and might even have been concealed in the tokul.

I was sorry that I had, in my hurry, omitted to bring a glass bead or two with me, in order that I might have made these good women quite happy. The walls of the tokuls were low, and plastered with clay, though the pointed roofs were, as usual, of straw. Skins were lying on the ground, and gourd-shells and vessels of black clay standing around, but there was neither merissa nor milk to be discovered in them; and I must say, I laughed not a little, when Sale, who is so devoted to merissa, put a gara to his mouth, in the greatest delight, thinking he had found some. It was urine, which they are in the habit of collecting from cows, and mixing with milk, as a drink, which I learned subsequently from our blacks. This is considered wholesome, as there is no salt here. A number of short stakes were driven into the ground near the village, for the cattle to be fastened to; and the women made us understand by signs that the beasts were a long distance from here. An immense number of birds were perched around the pools; amongst them also ducks and sand-pipers, but we could not get within shot of them. The latitude 6° 34′, east longitude, from Paris 28° 32′. The thermometer in the morning 16°, and at noon, 25°.

The women must have reported well of our friendly intentions; for when we returned to the vessels, we found there some natives, who had probably washed the ashes from themselves, for they were quite black. Very little notice was taken of them by the Turks, because they had not brought with them any cattle. These people were more like trees than men; I perceived with them also the artificial wrinkles on the forehead, being the insignia of the nation of the Keks, which I had overlooked in the former visitors, owing either to the dirt or the ashes. At three o’clock the drum beat, and I really thought that it was a joke; but it was not so, for it was supposed that there was reason to believe all our negroes intended to desert. We towed our vessels, therefore, further to the S.; for Hüsseïn Aga had also returned with his fifty men without having effected his object.

At four o’clock we had, on the left, a long village, the tokul roofs of which were without under-walls. The right shore is elevated here four to five feet above the height of the Nile, and has only scanty grass, for the Nile appears not to have inundated it. A wood at a distance, losing itself under the horizon, on the left shore; the Haba close at hand, wherein I had shot yesterday, runs with the river to the south. A faint east wind has set in, with which we slowly sail S.S.E., and make one mile. Two lakes, of which the former one is not inconsiderable, are in a line with each other between the before-named Haba and the river; the forest, with a margin of reeds before it, approaches then to the border of the river.

At five o’clock, to S.E. by E., where again there is a similar half-finished summer or herdsman’s village. The hills of ashes, from their being covered with the mud of the preceding year, and not by the water, incline us to believe that the Nile has not ascended above four feet; yet, behind this temporary settlement, the surface of the earth seems to lie a little deeper, for we remark there a green vegetation.

A vessel has sprung a leak; it is affirmed that this accident has been caused by a hippopotamus. We halt, owing to this circumstance, at half-past five o’clock, at the left shore. According to the superstitious notions of the Reïs, hippopotami recognise us as the dangerous enemy with the fiery claw, and therefore attack our ships with their hard skulls; for it is quite certain that a Sheitàn is concealed under their form. The surface of the earth rises here only two feet above the river, and is a fertile slime soil. The Keks who came this morning to the ships, return, and bring three goats and one calf, for which some glass beads were presented to them. These glass beads are called by the Keks and Iengähs, Gòd or Guòd; by the Arabs, on the contrary, Sug-Sug; so, also, the two former nations call the Nile “Kidi or Kiti.”

Several more Keks came, and amongst them two old men, dressed in stiff cobblers’ aprons; these reached over the breast, and were very well curried. Two of the men who were of gigantic stature, like all the rest, might have been called really handsome; it was only a pity that they were covered with a crust of ashes, even in the orbits, and in every part where the perspiration had not found its way through. They wore ornaments of feathers or skins, according to their fancy, on their heads; earrings of red copper, strips of leather round their necks, and iron rings, both on the right and on the left arm. Owing to the short hair, we could see how the incisions on the forehead, previously referred to, run above the ears, even to the occiput. There were only some who had a longer tuft of hair.

It is wonderful that they do not quarrel and fight for the beads thrown on the ground, as these ornaments are of higher value to them than gold and jewels.

The sun had gone down for a long time, and the negroes had run home as quickly as possible, to shew their wives, whom I had already seen, their magnificent presents, when we sailed S.S.E. The village in which I had been was called Pagnaù. We soon go to the S., where a lake gleamed on the right. Towards E., we got aground in an arm of the Nile, close by a peninsula; again go back, and in a short time, from S. to N., and again in S. and N., and cast anchor in the middle of the river.

31st December.—In spite of the coolness, or rather warmth of 15° Reaumur, we are even plagued this morning with gnats. We go N.N.W. If the river had for some days a decided southerly direction, now I really do not know what will become of it. Where the shores do not fall away precipitously, they are always covered with reeds; and the frequent lagoons, although mostly dry and deeply split and cracked, run close to the river, and may form beneficent conduits in these level regions.

9 o’clock.—Always advancing with Libàhn, owing to which we have scarcely made two miles and a quarter, for the rope gets continually entangled in the reeds, and we cannot tow on this side the margin, or but very seldom. The river winds here from E. to S.E. by E., to go again immediately to N., where a little village is seen on the right shore. It is cold, and yet the thermometer shews 20° in the cabin itself.

We halt because Feïzulla Capitan has given our Ombashi (subaltern officer) a box on the ear, and the latter has complained to the commander. This officer, our Abu Hashis, had laid aside for himself a cow’s skin, which here, as well as in all Egypt, is a monopoly of the Belik (government). Feïzulla Capitan had remarked this by accident, and reproached him for it, which ended in a box on the ears. The fact of the peculation was attested. The commander feared the crew. The Egyptians, stung by gnats, were discontented with the voyage itself, because they had again got into their heads the idea of Njam-Njam, or cannibals. They were also afraid of a conspiracy among our negroes, whom they still always call “Abit.” This is the cause why attention was paid to the Egyptian subordinate. He was quietly allowed to complain, and just as quietly to retire. Nothing was said to Feïzulla Capitan, because the Insbashi, or captain of the plaintiff, neglected to support his complaint; in vain, therefore, had this officer caught hold very eagerly of the ship’s towing-rope, when he jumped overboard after receiving the box on the ears. We must not think that esprit du corps, or wounded honour, which seldom or ever presents itself to the Fellahs, prompted him to this not very dangerous jump, but the screamer thought that he must open his mouth before the others. He was removed to his Insbashi’s vessel.

My servants will not get accustomed, or attend only in a very careless manner, to the shifting of my specimens of marsh plants, which cannot be too frequently done in such a damp atmosphere. They can understand stuffing (osluk) birds and other animals, for the purpose of exhibiting them in Europe for money; but to preserve gesh (grass), that is beyond their comprehension.—One o’clock. We have come from the northern direction slowly again to S.S.W., sail at half-past one o’clock round a corner of the reeds S.W., and go at two o’clock E. with the rope. At three o’clock to S., with sails, and in five minutes again Libàhn towards E. Our course became, by this eternal change, almost reduced to nothing; had it been otherwise, we might have made a good tract with the east wind.

It occurred to me that it was Sylvester’s day, and I brought before my wretched mind the different Sylvester nights; how I had sometimes passed them joyfully, sometimes melancholy or quietly, ever according to the circumstances and situations in which I was placed at the time. I shouted to Thibaut, who was just passing by me, that it was Sylvester’s day, that we ought to keep the anniversary of our honest patron as a festival, and invited him to my vessel. He was afraid, however, of Feïzulla, who, reclined upon his carpet on deck, resting from his tailoring, and had one Fingàn (small cup) of date brandy after another handed to him, as if he wanted to solemnise Sylvester’s evening in his own way. I went down, therefore, to Thibaut; we drank maraschino and grog, having a coal-dish between us, over the fire of which we laid green brushwood, to protect us, in some measure, against the impudent gnats. We related anecdotes of our previous journeys in Greece, and how we, being then young, looked at the world with perfectly different eyes, and had now become old fellows, whose highest destiny would be to get an old maid or widow for a wife, on our return to our native country, and how we had lost the so-called happiness when it was thrown in our way. The usual Jeremiads of incipient old bachelors. After four o’clock we sailed S.W., and then generally more to the S.

It was eight o’clock when I summoned my Dahabie to come close, but as if the devil had seized the helm, it went at the very same moment bang against the vessel in which the Frenchmen were; a fearful row and mutual abuse then took place, especially as all the vessels were thrown together by wind and the current, into the corner where the river makes a sudden bend from S. to S.W. It was only with much trouble that we worked ourselves loose with oars, poles, and sails, to stop about N.W. with the north-east wind. At sunset we cast anchor, north latitude 6° 52′, east longitude from Paris 28° 33′.

1st January, 1841.—Welcome new year! Oh ye beautiful past times! Dance and the girls—Wine and friends.—I could not sleep; the sentinels sang, and told stories of spirits, snakes, and unbelievers, accompanied by abuse of the gnats. I thought of my brother in Taka, who at the present moment did not even know it was Sylvester’s evening, for there we had lost the computation of time, both having different dates in our journals. This was also the case with the Italian physician, Dr. Bellotti, who took the greatest delight however in the new moon, because the arrears of his salary increased with it. It occurred to me that my brother and I, when we had nearly lost our memory, after a severe illness, had even contended about the date of the year. Midnight had long passed, and I was just on the point of falling asleep, when Thibaut, who had continued his libations in honour of St. Sylvester, shouted out a “Happy New Year to you!”

We sailed from sun-rise to seven o’clock, in a southern direction, with a faint north-east wind. We halt on the left side of that large island, near which Selim Capitan returned the evening before yesterday, to navigate the left instead of the right arm. Here, on the right shore, our stream takes up in S.S.E. by E., a small, but strongly-flowing river, or an arm of the Nile; in the latter signification it is called, without any further ceremony, a gohr. Ash-grey negroes come to the shore and bring us some cattle. Both their chiefs or Sheiks are called Arwor and Albisùg: their neighbouring village bears, to my astonishment, the name of Bonn. We presented them with glass beads, and threw some on the ground for the others, without their quarrelling or fighting for them. The stream we traverse is called by them Kir, and the arm before mentioned Muts; the former is said to be very circuitous. A little before ten o’clock we sail with a good north-east wind to S.E., and immediately to S. As we see here, the arm of the Nile comes from the east.

Our high road has scarcely thirty paces breadth for a short tract, because the giant rushes and the everlasting blooming ambaks advance deeply in the water from the left shore. At half-past ten o’clock in a bend to S.S.W., then S.S.E., and S.S.W. The shores are only two feet high on the left hand, and therefore the burning away of the half-dried reeds is of no consequence. Still, before eleven o’clock, round a corner to E.S.E., where we perceive, on the right shore towards E., a large lake at half an hour’s distance, whilst we sail to S.S.W. Both shores are here scarcely elevated one foot above the river, which again is more than three hundred paces broad. There lies yonder a herdsman’s village; the natives step to the right shore, but run away, however, when we begin to beat the drum; yet they approached soon afterwards, and without weapons. Each had adorned himself according to his fancy, with feathers or the skin of a wild beast. I have remarked also that all these inhabitants of the marshes have very bad teeth, notwithstanding their otherwise personal advantages. They came on the left shore with a cow, but we did not think it worth the trouble to accept such an insignificant sacrifice. Only a gun-shot distance to the N., then again to S.E. and S.

One o’clock. I had fallen asleep, wearied out, and Feïzulla told me that he had watched the compass during the time I slept, and that we had remained to this moment in a southerly direction. Towards S.E. a large lake, extending between the shore and a wood an hour distant. Fishermen from a village in the neighbourhood are employed in making the water disturbed in its narrow outlets, and covering these with wicker and fishing-baskets. At half-past one o’clock, E.N.E., where another village appears on the right shore; then E. up to four o’clock, and with the rope, for the east wind has set in. This wind is, however, too faint to advance with sails S.W. Even rowing does not assist us, and we at first advance Libàhn.

I interpret it as a good omen that I am in such a cheerful humour to-day, arising a good deal from my present state of health. Poor Sabatier, on the contrary, seems to be going fast to certain death, through his own melancholy and Arnaud’s heartlessness, for he is continually affected with fever and will never hear of any diet. At half-past four o’clock, S.S.W. Our vessel draws water, whereupon we fire two shots as signals of distress; but no care was taken about us, because the wind had become a little stronger, and we make about a mile; before, we had scarcely made half a mile in the hour. We sail, therefore, “Alla kerim,” behind the others, although the water visibly rises in the hold, and we have not even pumps. We halt, about five o’clock, at the corner, where the river goes from S.S.W. to E.N.E. Here we have an extensive view of the scenery, an immeasurably flat country, with yellow grass, which seems to have been merely overflowed a little by the water, although the shores are only two feet high. Numberless ant-hills stand around. In the background we remark a forest without shade. A German prince said to Ahmed Basha in Kahira, “I have found forests here, but no shade in them.”

Two negroes greet and make signs to us, but in vain, for they do not bring oxen, and we have already to-day distrained ten. At half-past five o’clock we left this place, and sailed E.N.E. into a canal, scarcely fifty paces broad, having on the right an ambak-thicket, with a fore-ground of aquatic grass, and on the left a margin of reeds. This last is said to belong to an island, but we do not observe there either tree or shrub. After sunset, from E. to S.; then again eastward, and lastly S.S.W. The wind again becomes very slack; therefore rowing and singing, contention and strife, among the crew, who get one before the other. A short bend to N., but a bad sandy point of land for oars and poles. The wind blows from S.W., and we sail E. by S., and still somewhat N.E., when it again slackens, and we are obliged to torment ourselves in an E.N.E. direction.

We come here unexpectedly upon four rivers, according to the expression of the Arabs. The Nile separates into two arms, into those in which we had come, and in those which we had left to N.W., and afterwards at our back; again it splits into two arms above, of which the smaller one ascends upwards to E. and our arm to E.N.E. The island, the lower portion of which we saw this morning at seven o’clock, is therefore confirmed by the arm flowing away to N.W.

Baùda! Baùda! Everyone is fanning and striking off the gnats, especially in Suliman Kashef’s vessel, where the crew have armed themselves with the corollas of the giant rushes, to be used as fans. The east wind is faint, the sky cloudy, and always Libàhn to N.E. till nine o’clock. A floating island wheeled our ship round, anchor and all; this also frequently happens at night. Thermometer 18°, 25°, 28°, and 23° Reaumur.

2nd January.—Selim Capitan now asserts that he navigated, in the first expedition, this arm of the Nile in which we are at present. That arm, from which, three days ago, we returned at night, would be, according to this statement, a tributary, or an arm, ending when the water falls in a cul-de-sac. But where is now the Muts, which was pointed out to us as a nearer Nile arm, and the beginning of which ought to have shewn itself?—for we saw already the mouth of it yesterday morning near the village of Bonn. At ten o’clock we go, by the rope, to E. by S.

On the right, to the west, we remark an arm of the Nile, which can be no other than the commencement of the little one seen yesterday evening, pouring itself yonder from the east, when we were going E.N.E. It is a wonder that the Nile does not divide into far more arms in these level regions; although it may be presumed with certainty that many gohrs are lost in the reeds, or slink again to the river, without being visible by us. The stream goes from here S.E. and E., and we halt S.E. on the right shore. The river appears again to separate in front of us.

I cannot help laughing when I hear the Reïs say to the lazy sailors, “Are you Muslems or Christians?” in order to tickle their sense of honour. Yet Nazrani is more a contemptuous expression for the Christian Rajahs than for Europeans, who are called Franks; although they abuse Arnaud and his vessel, by way of pre-eminence, with the title of “Nazrani,” because his conduct towards the men is very forbidding. From one to five o’clock in continued serpentine movements between S. and E. At half-past five o’clock, some minutes S.W. by S., and then again in an easterly direction. Throughout the day I was hot, languid, and sleepy, which I looked upon as the forebodings of fever, to which my three servants had already succumbed. Now I dread the night, and an incessant yawning gives me no sweet foretaste of the future.

We work over the shallows from W. by S. to E.N.E., and sail lastly, after sunset, at half-past six o’clock, slowly in a bend to E.S.E., and immediately W.N.W., and in eight minutes S.S.E. We tried, by using oars, poles, and sails, to get to N.E., and then halted. Here we saw to the N.E. an arm of the Nile flowing to S., the mouth of which we ought to have seen yesterday, and it may therefore probably be the Muts. Subsequently, when all had gone to sleep, a violent habùb threw the ship on shore; but the wind soon veered to our advantage. Thermometer 18°, 26°, to 28°, and 25°.

3rd. January—This morning a thick mist, and the hygrometer 92°. In the early part, towing to E.S.E. We sail at eight o’clock with a still changeable north wind to S.S.E., and about nine o’clock to S. Here, on the right low shore, where stands some scanty grass, flows a small canal to the left into the plain to the N.E., and leads probably to a shallow lake or a low ground, discharging its water in this way. The negroes, who appear to me to be generally vigorous Icthyophagists, have established a fishing weir here at the entrance of this outlet. It consists of a double row of strong stakes, having between them a deep hole and two openings to let in the fish. We see by the fresh earth thrown up, that this canal is cleaned out. Probably the natives take the fish retreating with the water subsiding, and emptying itself into the Nile, in these passes formed with stakes, by means of baskets, and the larger ones by harpoons. No tree, and scarcely any ambaks in the shape of green hills, are seen.

Ten o’clock. On the left, a little village, with seven well-built tokuls, the indented roofs of which are, however, tolerably flat, and on the whole are low. Close by, a large herdsman’s or pastoral village: the huts are built slightly enough, for they are only inhabited during grazing-time. Some negroes jump and sing; other men of ashes bring a cow and a few goats. The people here appear stronger and more muscular than these high shot-up marsh plants were in other places, and are on an average six Parisian feet[7] and upwards in height. Their sheikh or chief was called Tchinkah, and his village Kuronjah. A piece of white cotton stuff was given him to cover, at least, the nakedness of his shoulders, and some beads. Several negroes presented themselves, and they all now wanted “god” (glass beads). The teeth of the natives are very bad: this is generally the case in fenny countries; and we see it, for example, in Holland, where the women have not only bad teeth, but also very frequently swollen joints. They quarrel here for the beads thrown to them, but without fighting. Though such ornaments may soon lose the charm of novelty, yet they may lay the foundation of future discord, and cause homicide and murder. We saw some strings of blue glass beads on the chief, looking like broken maccaroni, and of which we also had brought a good supply. We could not learn from what country this glass ornament—Vermiglio or conteri di Venezia—had come to them; it was a proof, however, that communications take place between these inner African nations. The beads were very much worn and ground away, and therefore probably an old inheritance of the tribe.

They wear only a single tuft of hair: it is sometimes long, and sometimes short, so that they may shew the distinguishing mark of their race—the incisions running from the forehead in three strokes around the head. Yet there were some who wore their entire hair, which is no more to be called woolly than that of the Arabs in the land of Sudàn. Every one had adorned his head according to his own taste. Many were bedecked with a short ostrich-feather, others with a thong of pelt, or with a wooden ring, and one was covered all over with small burrs. This was that dreadful little burr that used to stick to our stockings and wide Turkish trowsers in Taka, and drew together the latter into the most singular folds. Its hook-formed point or prickle was only extracted from linen with the greatest trouble. Another wore a felt cap upon which was a tassel, as if he had taken a Turkish cap for his model.

Tattooing is called by these Keks garo-ungè: they wear slips of leather round their necks, hands, and also frequently round the hips, and rings of ivory and iron, varying in number, round the arm. If we ask them whence the iron comes, they answer, “From the mountain,” and point to the south. The iron rings are of various forms, furnished at the joints with small bells—that is, with a small hole, in which grains are placed to make a rattling noise; or even with small spikes, in order not to be seized so easily by the enemy. Their points were covered with little wooden heads, to prevent injury to the wearer. The bracelets were also adorned in another manner, or were quite simple, as those on the upper part of the arm,—some narrow, and others broad. They open in one place, so as to pass over the hand; but are so exactly joined together, that the opening is scarcely to be perceived: thus proving the elasticity of iron in good workmanship. Some wore a shoemakers’ or sadlers’ apron, serving to ward off darts rather than as a covering, for they all, in other respects, go naked. The women have a similar apron around the lower part of their body, as I also saw in the village of Pagnaù; and excepting this leathern apron, they have no other attire. The lower part of the back was generally tattooed in many rows by vertical incisions. The Dinkas appear to have a particular dexterity and perseverance in this kind of basso-relievo; for we see the female slaves in Khartùm having their whole thorax covered with such incisions, and even in the form of festoons of leaves—a kind of toilet that might not be very pleasant to the tender skin of our coquettish ladies. We saw also some earrings of red copper, and there was always a hole for these in the ear; often also many holes in the rim of the ear for future trinkets, a small stick being placed in them to prevent them closing. These negroes cross and throw their legs under them in all directions; so that, compared with them, Orientals and tailors are only bunglers. They have generally a flexibility in their limbs, which would not be supposed from the manner in which they tread the ground.

We had made the good Ethiopians comprehend that a few more oxen would be welcome to us; but about eleven o’clock a favourable east wind set in, promising to become still better. We sail to S.S.W.; but in the space of ten minutes put to land again, so that we might not leave in the lurch the promised morsels, costing only a few glass beads. But the people did not shew themselves again; and just as the sails were bent to proceed on our voyage, the wind also veered, and blew from S.E.: therefore libàhn. The hygrometer had at ten o’clock still 58°, whilst this morning it was even 92°. Twelve o’clock.—E.N.E., and soon E.; where, on the left, a lake is seen, about an hour and a half long.

After an hour’s progress, we are towed S.S.E. again, and it seems that we shall follow this direction further. I cannot keep my eyes open, and go to sleep, with orders to wake me at the first bend in the river. At three o’clock from S.E. to E.S.E. Towards S.E. by S. the river makes a bend, and a village extends yonder on the right shore, which brought to my recollection Bonn on the Rhine, as seen from the so-called Obtuse Tower, although neither towers nor high buildings are to be seen there. Close to us, on the left side, we observe a large and long lake, retreating with the river in a parallel direction for about two hours and a half. I had not previously remarked it, owing to the reeds rising so high, for I had now no servant in sufficiently good health to keep a look-out from the mast. Judging from the green reeds, it appears to be connected with the river. At half-past three o’clock we go N.N.E., and at half an hour’s distance over the right shore, a little lake and a village are to be seen. The boundary of the old shore, properly speaking, is not visible from the deck, but a sailor tells me from the mast that trees, three or four hours’ distant, are standing there, up to which all is green. The Haba, or the old shore, runs at the left side of the river, in the direction of the great lake, about one hour distant from us, and approaches near to us, according to appearances, behind the before-named large village, which may be called here a city.

We soon come to a gohr, or canal, apparently feeding the little lake. The current along the shore itself is frequently more unequal in strength than in the centre of the river, owing to such flowings off, and on account of the great depth of three to five fathoms, which is often found directly close to the margin of the new shore, against which the mass of waters is thrown. But notwithstanding this striking disadvantage, we prefer to remain close to the shore, where the crew are obliged to work till they are half dead to gain ground only a little. At five o’clock we come nearer to the great village. My Bonn, with the green of its vinea Domini, and its old custom-house, is turned here into high reeds; its university into tokuls concealed behind them; and its houses into reed huts of various sorts. It was only the position and the winding of the stream itself that could awaken this dear remembrance, with a whole host of half-extinguished pictures; and the more so because we had already seen an Ethiopian Bonn, the bare name of which had excited my imagination.

On all sides the cattle turn to the smoking pastoral city. I hear and see that the village of the women is always separated from that of the men; that the latter possess only the temporary huts, and the former regular tokuls,—the last being only common to both sexes at the rainy season. We pass slowly by, whilst I stand on the deck and write. This Harim village looks, on the whole, very well: the tokuls, indeed, are low, but well built, and, as I have remarked already, the straw upon the roof is laid round in five or six layers, giving it the same number of stories, without having a steep slope. The old women were the first to gratify their curiosity: they dance and jump before their houses, sing bold songs, and beat their breasts up and down, so that it is horrible to see and hear them. Children and maidens appear to be locked up from fear of the “Children of Heaven;” for it was asserted that the white soldiers in the former expedition were looked upon by the negroes of this country as “Children of Heaven.” I scarcely believe that such a compliment was paid to them, for I saw a black soldier pointing to two Egyptians as having come from Heaven; whereupon the blacks put on a silly laughing countenance, and went away, as much as to say, “Children of Heaven ought to fly lightly, like birds, and not crawl heavily on the earth, and draw ships.”

A natural pond was connected by a canal with the river, and closed by a fishing weir of palisadoes. Lumps of earth lay piled up on one another, like pyramids of cannon-balls. They take, perhaps, the slime from the canal with their hands, to plaster round the walls of their tokuls, and also to clean the canal. Even the old women here were ash-grey; therefore it seems as if they make fires in their tokuls, and their beds on the ashes.

The city of these Amazons, numbering forty-two tokuls in a line along the river, was immediately followed, however, by the city, or a village, of the men. These summer huts have partly the form of tokuls, with only slightly elevated pointed roofs; partly they were huts with a mere covering, as a protection against the weather, and frequently so small that they could only be built for the young cattle. The hills of ashes, the real places of rest for the night, were surrounded with a wall of reeds on one side, to shelter them from the wind. The huts might be here about two hundred in number; near them on every side rose the smoke of small piles of dung: close at hand, the stakes stood, to which the oxen were fastened in the evening. The horned cattle, and even the little goats, go cheerfully to the smoke, because they know they are protected there from gnats.

The men here behave very quietly, and do not seem to have known that they would meet us when driving home their cattle. As they do not come to us, we go ashore to them. The sheikh of this tribe visits us in quite a friendly manner; he is invested by us with a red shirt, and with a gay-coloured pocket-handkerchief round his head, as well as strings of beads round his neck. In vain Thibaut and I gave ourselves the trouble of trying to learn, with the assistance of our stupid interpreters, something from these Keks; for they appear to be unwilling to mention names, as if evil might happen to the person whom it concerns.

The village is called Min, Mim, Mièmn, ever according to the different pronunciation of the people, and, as Selim Capitan afterwards asserted, “Bakak.”

This nation of the Keks, or Kièks, appears, on the whole, to be numerous, and has a great sheikh, or king, by the name of Ajol. His city lies on the left side of the river, far from hence, near a stream, and is called Gog. Polygamy prevails here, as generally on the White Stream; only, however, the more opulent enjoy this privilege, for the women are bought. I remarked here, for the first time, bodily defects, which, like elephantiasis, are so very rare in the whole land of Sudàn. One had hernia, and many suffered from diseases of the eyes, and wanted medical assistance. Their eyes, indeed, were nearly all suffused with red, as I had previously remarked; and it seems that these people must suffer uncommonly in the rainy season, when they lie, as it were, in the morass. The hair of some of them, who wore it long, was of a reddish colour, having lost its natural black hue by the ley of the ashes and water, and heat of the sun; for we did not perceive this in the shorter hairs, and they did not know how to explain the cause of this tinge. The cattle are generally of a light colour, of moderate size, and have long beautifully-twisted horns, some of which are turned backwards. The bulls have large speckled humps, such as are seen in the hieroglyphics; the cows, on the contrary, only a little elevation on the shoulders. The small reed tokuls, with half-flat roofs, are neat, and serve throughout the day for protection against the sun. I wandered about here quite alone, without being molested or sent back by the people, although the whole crew on board believed, and our blacks agreed with them, that men and women live separate the greatest part of the year, and that man durst not enter into such a Harìm-village out of season. I must, however, differ in some measure with respect to this assertion; for I saw in some little tokuls of the male village, young women and children, crawling about upon the extended skins on the ground.

MOUNT NERKONJIN, 22nd JANUARY, 1842.

A young woman was so enraptured at the sight of my glass beads, that she wanted to sell me her child, which she carried in a skin under her left arm, as if in a bag. I do not think that I am mistaken with regard to this offer, although one ought not to be confident that the daughter of a harmless nation like the Keks would do so. Perhaps she was a prisoner, which might be the case here generally, and that these women are watched by the men. It is always possible too, that the men take their favourite wives with them for comfort’s sake, and leave the others at home, or put them in some kind of bodily restraint.

A very large and broad sürtuk caught my eye, and I was curious to find out the species of wood of which it was built, but the bulls standing close to each other there, pointed their horns at me. Two natives sprang nimbly to them, in order to quiet them; whereupon I went off as quickly as possible,—and the more so, because last year a soldier had been gored to death. A village bull towered above all of them; his high horns were adorned with two animals’ tails; he had also ornaments around his neck. I was not able, however, to examine these ornaments very closely, for he rushed too quickly into the herd, that he might, like all the other beasts, stick his nose as quickly as possible into the smoke. This is a ludicrous sight: every beast appears to know exactly his heap, or rather his neighbourhood, else an uncommon confusion would take place, for they have their stakes quite close to one another. In the morning this encampment, on which no straw is strewed, is carefully cleansed of the dirt, which is thrown in small heaps near the stakes, and kindled in the evening, shortly before the cows come home, where it continues to glimmer till towards morning.

Though the natives had hitherto let me quietly walk about, because the general attention was directed to the vessels, and the distribution of beads, now I heard from the men on all sides a peculiar buzzing sound, similar to the bleating of sheep. The sound can only be denoted by “Eh;” it is a natural tone of disapprobation, and was sufficiently intelligible to me. The men had concealed their arrows and spears, for they were told that they must not come with them. If the women go also freely among the men, without taking notice of the nakedness of the latter, yet there appears in them a certain innate degree of modesty, as I saw myself in the maidens, who are quite naked, whilst the married women wear a leathern apron. An aproned woman had crept out of a tokul with her child, to see the other strangers at a distance, when a girl, with swelling breasts, also hastily followed her out of the oval hole, and stood on tip-toe to see better. Scarcely had the naked maid remarked me close at hand, than she quickly seized a stiff piece of leather lying there, and covered herself with it. Other girls, already a good height, but still without breasts, were between the cows and goats, and concerned themselves more about the young of these animals than about us. I found also here, in the tokuls, large gourd-shells filled with urine, which, as mentioned before, is said to supply the place of salt.

Amongst other huts, I here saw two built of bamin stalks, twenty feet high, placed conically upon the ground, joined together at the top in such a manner that they formed a draft of air as well as a chimney. It was quite cool inside, for the entrance also nearly reached to the top, and formed a triangle. They offered us milk and butter, but as both are seasoned with the water previously named, instead of salt, the crew refused them with contempt. We got, however, fresh milk, and I charged my servants, who laughed at the Egyptian braggarts, to take butter with them: it left very little twang when cooked, whilst the milk of the morning tasted of smoke, and of that dirty mixture.

Richly provided with meat, we took advantage of the east wind just freshening up, and sailed, after sunset, to S. by E., but this lasted only a moment, and we went from S.E. to N., when we were obliged to take to our oars; then to N.W. and S.E. A smoking herdsman’s village was noticed to E. by S. as also just after our setting out. Reckoning from the horizontal layers of smoke, the country must have been tolerably populated, even at some distance from the river, which is here about four hundred paces broad. The smoke produced for the cattle has no unpleasant smell; on the contrary, that from the burnt reeds, has the smell of our thick yellowish fogs; and, if I am not mistaken, I have met with such a fog in the Nubian deserts, or perhaps in Egypt. The hygrometer shewed this afternoon, at four o’clock, 65°; and I hear that Arnaud has had it in his hands, and has made himself master of it, in order to profit by it alone.

4th January.—The vessels remained during the night towards E.S.E. According to my usual custom, I breathed the fresh morning air at the open window: but I flew from the room where gnats and the besotted Feïzulla-Capitan had robbed me of my sleep, as soon as day shewed itself through the red tinge of morning. I see at my right hand a lake, and hear from the mast that the same extends on the right to S. for half an hour, and is, from S.E. by E. to W., three-quarters of an hour long; that another joins to it towards N., cut off from the Nile by dry slime. We remarked also a third little lake, a quarter of an hour distant, behind the before-named city. The green grass ceases before us; on the right is noticed a wood behind the lake, and on the left some trees of the right shore,—always a friendly appearance to me in the landscape. We advance by the rope at ten o’clock S.E. by E., and then on the right to S. At eleven o’clock we move towards the left side of the river to gain better ground for towing, although the east wind had become stronger, and we could see before us the continuation of our course. The wind is now always driving the vessels on the reeds, and the people tow only with the greatest difficulty, the poles being continually used to prevent us from running aground. At noon, to S. The south-east wind blows so violently against us, that we hardly advance beyond the lake, near which is a little village. We still see the herdsmen’s city, at which we stayed yesterday. The lake, as is mostly the case here, fills up the angle of the earth formed by the Nile in its present circuit, and therefore cut off formerly by it in a straight line, and perhaps is so now at high water. The main stream then makes good its old right, on account of its greater fall, without tearing up from their foundations the choked-up passes to the lakes; for these old river-beds form, by means of that root-work of marsh plants, a natural cofferdam, which is no more to be subdued.

To the east, we see on the right shore mists of smoke creeping over the ground like Cain’s sacrifice, for they cannot rise out of the vaporous atmosphere. There is also there a village, pushed back, as it were, by the reeds struggling forward, and somewhat elevated above the marsh region. The crew are very tired, and we halt above the lake till three o’clock.

A small hamlet lies in our neighbourhood, and I see again cattle dragged near to us. Now, at last, we shall have enough meat. Large garlands of meat, cut in narrow strips, are passed already from one rope to another, to be completely dried in the sun, according to the usual custom in the Land of Sudàn. It is afterwards rubbed small on the murhaka, and with the ground uèka, used for a favourite broth, to be poured over the hard meal-pap (Asside), or over pancakes. This abundance of meat must be followed by injurious consequences even to these Saturnian stomachs, for the crew generally are not accustomed to it.

I have again that lethargy, threatening, like the day before yesterday, to turn to fever,—a thing that makes me the more uneasy, because the Febris tertiana is not only very tenacious, but is also here fatal. Last night I was delirious, fell asleep late, and awoke at the moment of departure; the sun, just getting up, fell like an enormous torch on my face, when I unwittingly threw back the cloak with which I had covered it, on account of the gnats. At the noise of the sailors and soldiers, I fancied that all was on fire, and thought for a moment of the powder-room under me, without being able, however, to rise.

At four o’clock we went E. by S., and I saw that the river wound more southerly before us, so that we did not advance, and heard that we must wait for the ships remaining behind, and lay to at the left shore. I had the fever till about sunset, but not in a violent degree. From my window I perceived, close to me, a large lake, over which the setting sun hung like a ball of blood. I raised myself up slowly on my legs, and really did not stand so weakly on them as I had imagined when lying; but the perspiration was not by any means subdued. I hoped, however, to recover this afterwards, and had myself carried ashore. This setting foot upon land exercised a peculiar influence, as after a tedious voyage. The main point in these countries is not to lose courage, but to drag about one’s sickly body so long as it can go; to stumble, fall, rise up again,—anything, only not to remain lying in bed in fearful despair.

The dark margin of the Haba extended in a half circle between the setting sun and the water, from N.W. to S.E., like a faithful though somewhat distant attendant of the stream sunk down by his Neptunian majesty. The lake, which runs parallel with the river, and appears to have its greatest extension from S.S.E. to N.N.W., and is only divided from it by a narrow dam, four feet and a half high. The tree-islands in this lake, the foundation and the ground of which were concealed by the water, increase the picturesque and heartstirring impression by their dark shade and play of colours contrasting with the lake, glowing as if with fire! The landscape towards the west is very much confined by the semicircular margin of wood around the wide bay. An endless number of morass-birds swim or stand around on the shallow spots, and find here the richest prey; therefore, comparatively few birds are seen on the shores of the Nile, which is here called “Kiati,” which is only a deviation from Kidi or Kiti, as it was hitherto called. It became dark about seven o’clock, and we went on S.E. Shortly before this bend, there is on the left a village;—and now once more a pastoral hamlet, near which runs a gohr of little breadth to N.E., probably connected with the lake seen yonder on the right shore.

We also notice a village wherein Icthyophagi may dwell, for we perceive no smoke from herds near it. We cast anchor, according to our custom, in the middle of the river, to be more secure from a surprise of these numerous free negroes; for our sentinels, in spite of the bastinado, creep into their cowls and sleep, that they may hear and see nothing of the swarms of gnats. We are now the more upon our guard, because we have heard from these Keks that a nation dwelling up the Nile, behind the Elliàbs, and who are said to exceed the Shilluks in population, declared, after the former expedition, that they would rather die with their powerful king than permit us to pass. This intelligence made a very sensible impression upon the Turks and Franks. Suliman Kashef, on the contrary, wishes only to see this heroic king at a distance, and looks, with a smile, at his long gun. As I know his disposition, and must fear precipitate violence on our side, I try to make him understand that that king, if he is determined to die, may first send at us an arrow or a spear. If they will be our enemies and take to force, well and good. Even though our soldiers may shoot badly, yet fifty negroes must fall at every volley, for the vessels are our bulwarks, and they will come blindly to the attack.

Suliman Kashef also quoted passages from the Koràn. At these quotations, by which the commonest Turk feels himself authorised to aspire to be a sultan, there came to my remembrance the beautiful admonitory discourses which the French left to the brutal people, during their glorious presence in Egypt. These began with passages from the Koràn, in the Arabic, Turkish, and Persian languages, and also in the French, thus: “Au nom de Dieu, clément, miséricordieux, et très saint maître du monde, il fait de sa propriété ce que lui plaît, et dispense à son gré de la victoire.” Then, “que les armes ne servent à rien contre la volonté de Dieu. Egyptiens, soumettez-vous à ses décrets, obéïssez à ses commandemens, et reconnaissez que le monde est sa propriété, et qu’il le donne à qui il lui plaît.” Or “tous les biens viennent de Dieu; il accorde la victoire à qui il lui plaît, &c.” They end generally in this manner, “Que le salut et la miséricorde divine soient sur vous!” We laugh because they come out of the mouth of a Frenchman, with whom, at that time the Lord God was as good as deposed; but in the country itself we comprehend the deep policy of these phrases. Wonder and astonishment seize the traveller who recollects the Egyptian expedition, when he reads the inscription of the conquering heroes on the island of Philæ.

CHAPTER X.

SHEIKH DIM. — CLUBS OF THE KEKS AND CAPS SIMILAR TO THOSE OF THE ANCIENT EGYPTIAN PRIESTS. — RAPACITY OF THE CREW. — TRIBUTARY LAKES. — HEIGHT OF THE SHORES. — THE TRIBE OF THE BUNDURIÀLS. — DUSHÒÏL, THE KEK, ON BOARD SELÌM CAPITAN’S VESSEL. — HIS SIMPLICITY. — TOBACCO PLANTATIONS. — THE GREAT SHEIKH OF THE BUNDURIÀLS. — FISHING IMPLEMENTS OF THIS TRIBE. — THEIR TOKULS, AND GIGANTIC SIZE OF THE MEN. — ANTELOPES OF THE ARIEL SPECIES. — APATHY OF THE CREW, AND INDIFFERENCE AT THE LOSS OF THEIR COMPANIONS. — PHILOSOPHY OF A NATIVE. — SINGULAR CONTRAST BETWEEN THE FEATURES OF THE SHEIKHS AND THE OTHER NEGROES. — NATION OF THE BOHRS. — THIBAUT’S BARTER. — REED-STRAW ON FIRE, AND DANGER TO THE VESSELS. — FATALISM OF THE TURKS. — GREETING OF THE NATIVES: THEIR SONG OF WELCOME.

5th January.—At sunrise we sail E.S.E., and see immediately, on the right shore, a herdsman’s, or man’s village, to which a woman’s village, with thirty-three regular tokuls, joins, and where I saw seven sürtuks lying behind the houses. We wait again for cattle above the village, and I remark among the crowd of people our dear and faithful sheikh of Dim, or Dièm, who seems to wish to accompany us through his kingdom: he is very easily recognised among the ash-coloured men, even from a distance, by his red shirt. Not to offend the good people, we went ashore again. The majority of the Keks still wear their ivory rings round the upper part of the left arm, and likewise have only one hole in their ear. They made their appearance here without weapons; but brought, however, clubs of ebony, decreasing in thickness towards the top and bottom, fluted, and about two inches thick in the middle. In order to grasp them more firmly, there was not only a thong of leather for the grip, but also a ring of skin, or of the inside bark of a tree, woven around the handle. I saw here a pair of felt caps, rising to the top in the form of a bomb, and thick enough to ward off a blow from a club. This is the second time that I have seen a covering for the head exactly similar to the cap of the ancient Egyptian priests. These children of men have, however, a dreadful and truly horrible appearance, for the face, through the black patches of perspiration and the white crust of ashes, is like black-veined marble; although the form of the body, generally six feet high, and even of the head, notwithstanding the mouth projects a little among the generality of them, is not at all amiss; yet, perhaps, on the whole, it may be a little clownish.

At eight o’clock we advance with libàhn farther to E.; then the Nile winds to the right, and we are, at nine o’clock, S.E. Here we see on the right shore a gohr, that may be compared to a large millbrook. The negroes seem to consider this gohr as a boundary where they can see us once more and wish us farewell. Yet there is only one who lays his hands crossways on his shoulders, bends his body forward, and lets it fall upon his knees. This truly has a very humble appearance, and may be an Ethiopian bow. We have already lost the charm of novelty in the eyes of the people: they see that we eat and drink like themselves, and, by the bye, rob and steal; that everything suits us which is of great value amongst them, and that they must content themselves with a few beads when once the booty is in Turkish or Arabian hands. If we consider this nation, we start the question, how is it possible that it could have remained from eternity in this primitive grade of civilisation? From what mountains have they descended? The surface of the earth here is scarcely even now capable of receiving and supporting colonies of such a nature; perhaps their earlier settlements were beyond the old shores in the Gallas and Habas.

Whilst we come slowly up the river, the negroes remain standing right and left on the shore; they do not sing and jump, and we remark no astonishment in their faces. The next question which they put to themselves may perhaps be, “What do these strangers want here? What can they wish but our riches?” Let us ask the first best Turk or Arab what are we doing here? He knows not; he does not comprehend the aim of such an expedition, where there is no robbery, no plunder, no kidnapping. Turks do not think that any colonisation is possible, for their own country is already too extensive for them, and will remain so, indeed, till a perfect regeneration of it by conquering nations. Immeasurable tracts of land lie here vacant and uncultivated; but only the negro, baked as he is, can stand the heat of the sun. He must, however, sacrifice to the climate the greatest number of his teeth; this alone shews the diseases peculiar to the marsh regions.

It is surprising that I nowhere see any elephants’ tusks, though said to be so common here. About half past ten o’clock, S.S.E. On the right a lake, running tolerably even with the river, narrow at its southern point, more than an hour long, and three-quarters of an hour broad. The Haba, with its videttes of old shores behind, draws nearer before us. The right shore is a vast semicircle, circumscribed by isolated trees, with many green grass-plats, pools, ambaks, and a kind of acacia, with yellow clusters of flowers, like the gold-rain of the laburnum. To judge from the many pools, the river does not appear yet to have receded entirely, although the nearest shore-land is already burnt away, right and left. We sail half an hour, but the northern wind is too faint, and we come to its assistance by towing. The stream is about five hundred paces broad, and does not seem here to receive any tributaries.

A number of birds of prey pursue our vessels, in order, by a bold attack, to seize the meat strung on lines. We know, even at a distance, when a village is deserted, because it is immediately taken possession of by these legions of the air, and rummaged in all corners, in a very impudent manner. The natives on both shores have here directly at hand another free and worthy position. A long village, on the right shore, was by way of a joke called Dennap (tail). The first group consisted of thirty-five tokuls, on elevated ground; we only saw there old women and two old men. Our sailors, who were towing, immediately shot at the vultures whirling round over us through the village—forced open the doors of the huts, made of reeds or animal skins, and stole the hides lying there for beds, and whatever else was near. My loud abuse and threats brought them, however, into something like reason. This tokul group was followed by a double and threefold row of tokuls, about one hundred and twenty in number, on the high border of the river; therefore it had the appearance of an artificial dam, but may perhaps have been elevated gradually by the rudera of the tokuls themselves. A herdsman’s village joined on to the tokuls, numbering only thirty-one huts, and some square sheds, the flat reed-roofs of which were covered with earth and ashes. Negroes sat under them to be protected from the sun, and allowed us quietly to draw near, without making “Fantasie,” as our men wished. We stop near the village till three o’clock: its inhabitants appear mostly to have fled. We then advance for a time libàhn, and halt again, without any object.

At five o’clock we again advance to the south, for the natives do not shew themselves. On the left we notice one, and on the right two, lakes. We see, from the mast, at the distance of a quarter of an hour, a lake of an hour long, and half of that in breadth; and some hundred paces at the side of the left shore, a lake, not broad, but, judging from the green grass, about two hours’ long. Behind, towards the west, another lake shews itself, on the margin of which the Haba recedes about an hour and a half; and behind us also, on the left shore, a third lake to N.W. In front, towards S.S.W., a lake, behind which another, in S.S.W., in the obtuse angle formed by the river there to the right shore; therefore, at one glance we observed five lakes on the left shore, joining, very certainly, at high-water, and taking up an enormous space. There is no tree to be seen on the left to announce the far-distant right shore; yet a margin of wood shews itself in the distance on the left from E.S.E. to W. The air appears to be clearer, for I see the smoke, in many places, ascending straight up. At sunset we have the lake at our side, which lies, at five o’clock, S.S.W. of us, and behind it another strip of water flashes up in the south. From S. we go again in a semicircle to E. and N.E., and immediately again southward. We sail, indeed, since five o’clock, but have made, deducting the water-course, which has gradually got up again to a mile in rapidity, scarcely half a mile in the hour. At seven o’clock, E.N.E., and at eight o’clock S. by E., and soon afterwards from W.S.W. to S. and S.E. to E., from E. to S.W., E.S.E., and N.E., sometimes with the sails, sometimes libàhn, equally quick, for the north wind is very slack. In the level extensive arch, S. by W. to S.S.W., at last we halt at the corner, where the river winds to N.E. A large lake twinkles here on the left shore. The river retains, generally, a breadth of about five hundred paces; its depth is here two fathoms and a half. This seldom amounts to more than three, and was to-day, in one part, only two fathoms.

Nevertheless, the river always contains a large quantity of water, for the shores, precipitous and deep, nearly fall away in a right angle. It is surprising that we have not yet found a flint, or any other stone, in the Nile sand. The Mountains of the Moon must therefore be still far distant from us. The thermometer, at sunrise, 20°, at ten o’clock 26°, at twelve o’clock 27°, and rose till three o’clock to 29°. After sunset, 26°, a heat too great for me, as I was not well; although I had borne, at Khartùm, on the shores of the Blue river, a heat of 42° to 45° throughout the hot days; and was subsequently to endure, in the city of Sennaar, for three days, at three o’clock in the afternoon, 48° Reaumur.

6th January.—The Haba goes to the east, under the horizon, in the position in which we cast anchor this morning to S.S.W. It seems, therefore, that we shall approach again the firm line of the left old shore, by surprising windings; for the right has been unfaithful. Nothing is to be seen of it except the high bed of the primitive river, or a valley watered by the stream, partly laid on dry ground, over which the Nile flows, from time to time, with its waves, or rolls here and there into it at its pleasure. We proceed with libàhn around the corner mentioned, to N.N.E., but, after a short time, with a sharp wind, to E.S.E., where the river is remarkably contracted. An hour from the left shore is a large lake, wherein are fishermen; close to us a large fish-pond. The stream has, by the choking up and alteration of its bed, left behind numberless such fish-ponds, in a greater or smaller degree. The Icthyophagi only need for the in and out letting of the Nile water, to keep open the canals connected with the stream, so as to have continually an abundance of fish. From E.S.E. we go in a shallow bend again to S.E., where we spread sails.

Now, at eight o’clock, again in this circle, to S.W. by W., and we came in this manner closer to the old wood, as I had previously conjectured. The river appears really by this means to wish to keep more to the left old shore; for even the right side of the reeds is here generally higher than the left. It is clear, and the evidence of the eye-sight teaches us, that the shores, in almost all places where old or choked-up water-courses do not run into the land, are remarkably higher than the surface of the earth immediately behind, as is plainly perceived in the stream territory of the United Nile, which has been cultivated for thousands of years. The latter especially struck me when, on my return to Egypt, I met with newly dug canals, which were yet without bridges, and their banks so sloping, that I was often obliged to ride up towards the mountains or along their channel. The bed of the canal was always lower up the country, although it lay on an equal line with the mouth of the Nile. This rise in the bed of the stream exactly explains here, as well as in Egypt, the inundations. They form then, in connection with the tropical rains, numberless sloughs, ponds, and lakes, which must collect and completely evaporate in these long basins, were they not artificially diverted by the natives for the purpose of fishing, through incisions in the shore-dams, when the Nile falls.

Half-past eight o’clock. From S.W. by W. we go in the circle on to S., E., N. to N.W. by W., where we lay-to at ten o’clock. It only wanted 85° of a perfect circle. From this gyration, forwarding but little our journey, we go in a bend to N., and then to E. A gentle north wind sets in, called even by the crew, Hauer badlàhn (faint wind). My good countryman, who ought to refresh me again, is really extremely weak, and deserts us entirely in a quarter of an hour. Suddenly the wind blows against us from the south; and it would be an evil thing for our voyage if south winds should now set in, although we must not expect constancy in the winds in these equatorial regions of Central Africa, judging from our present experience of them. Eleven o’clock, to S.E.; twelve o’clock, S.S.E. A city with several tokuls seems to obstruct our road, and, as it were, to invite us.

We stopped, therefore, in a south-easterly direction before three o’clock, near the well-built village, which, at a distance, appears larger than it is; it numbers thirty-five tokuls, and is named Papio, and is the first village of a tribe calling themselves Bunduriàls. The name of the sheikh who came to meet us at the shore is Wadshia-Koï. On the right shore, up the country, the Tutui are said to dwell, but no huts are to be seen there. These Bunduriàls speak the language of the Keks,—a dialect closely allied to that of the Dinkas. In their powerful form of body they are also similar to the Dinkas, only better built; and their women smaller than the giant forms of the Dinka women, with their angular shoulders. Almost all the people here had a white feather in the black hair-bonnet on their heads. The latitude is, according to Selim Capitan, 5° 11′.

The river, which for some days has decreased in depth, amounts to two fathoms and a half, near the village of Papio, and, as I ascertained myself, to only two higher up. This is truly a considerable difference compared with the lower course of the river, but there always remains still a large mass of water in the breadth of two hundred to three hundred paces, near the precipitous falling-away shores. The rapidity of the river remains, on an average, one mile, yet less where the water is deeper. I have been since noon with Suliman Kashef and Feïzulla, on board Selim Capitan’s vessel. The latter has continually a sailor on the mast, and has counted eight lakes from yesterday noon till to-day. At half-past five o’clock libàhn to S.S.E., where a small lake is perceived on the left shore. A little after sun-set we halt for a moment, because the men are nearly worked to death with towing in the reeds, which are twice the height of a man. The thermometer, shewing before sun-rise 24°, and at noon 28°, had got up at three o’clock to 32°, and fell at sun-set to 30°. We went very slowly with a gentle north wind to S. by W., to N.E., and then right round to S.S.W. Selim Capitan is really very attentive at his post, although his momentary activity arises partly from our presence. I praise him, by way of encouragement, to induce him to go on as far as we can. About half-past six o’clock, we sailed with the wind blowing fresh S.S.W., and had three miles’ course, in a wide bend to S.E., till eight o’clock, and at half-past eight S.W., where a small island lay on our right; then a short tract S.E., and lastly E.

Selim-Capitan has a native on board, who is of the race of the Keks, and whose home was at Bakàk, near the village of Dim. His name is Dushóïl; he is a jolly old dog, with a half-blind eye. He journeyed with the expedition last year, and seems to have a natural talent for languages, for he managed to make himself understood generally with our blacks. I am able, therefore, to learn something from him. He calls the Nile “Kir,” and not Kiati, or Kiti; but I cannot vouch for it that I have rightly caught his pronunciation, incredible as this may appear. Water to drink, is “Piju;” good, “affiàt,” and “abàt;” bad, “arrashd,” or “arràdsh” (spoken with a humming sound); nothing, “liju;” to eat, “tshiàn;” mountain, “kur;” come, “Bà;” Hallo, men, “Ajajà!” His countrymen do not appear to be idol worshippers, and recognize a great God, who dwells much higher, or is like the mast of the ship, which he always pointed at to express His grandeur.

The name of the great Mek of the Keks is Kajòk: he does not know where he dwells, or perhaps may not wish to say, as well as many other things on which he was asked. It is probable that I was right in my former assertion, that their king is called Ajol, and his village Gòg, for he may connect both words in his indistinct language. He treats his own name also in a similar manner, by appending the word Dim, and then calls himself Dsholi-Dim. The Keks, as also the Bunduriàls, take the iron for their spears and arrows from the region of Arol, the mountain of which lies towards the west, and cannot be seen here, owing to the trees. Another tribe dwells there. From this place they fetch their copper for the few earrings that they wear, and upon which they do not seem to lay any particular value. I was glad that I was at his elbow for some time, although the coarse jokes of the Turks, in which even Selim-Capitan’s servants took part, annoyed me. He is a good fellow, and is obliged now to do at Rome as the Romans do. He could not pronounce C in the alphabet, but always said T, and swelled the tone at every repetition, without being able to come nearer to the pronunciation. He sang, screamed, and danced just as one wished: meat dried in the sun was given him; but he soon said, laughing, “Arrádsh,” because it agreed with his teeth as little as the dry biscuit did. A pipe was brought him to smoke, but the crew had filled it at the bottom with powder, which exploded; on account of this, he would not smoke any more, and was afraid even of a lantern, when one was brought close to him. Soon afterwards, he took the ashes from all the pipes, and put them in his mouth with the burnt tobacco. Hereupon I gave him some tobacco in his hand, which he kneaded together into a quid, and took in his mouth. A roasted leg of mutton was afterwards handed to him, and the cat immediately approached. He fairly divided it with her, and took great pleasure in this animal, because it could climb up the ropes. Then he was a long time enticing two young goats, by whistling, and calling “Suk-suk-suk,”—nature’s sounds, even used by us—and played with them as if they were his children. One of his principal songs began with “Abandejo,” and he managed to imitate the chorus, “Wai, wai, Abandejo,” &c.

Suliman Kashef had played some coarse Turkish jokes on him; he was offended for a moment, but he soon slid on his knees to him, in order that the latter might spit on the back and palm of his hands. He played the buffoon, because he had been once mad. Some time since, they hung beads round him, and put on him a shirt reaching to his stomach, and he had so raved about with joy, that he became at last sleepy, went into the cabin, and lay down upon Selim Capitan’s bed; but he was soon hunted out of that, and they made a bed for him under a cannon, to keep him safe from the further bantering of the crew. He is a commoner of nature, and so they all appear to me to be, but far from being savages,—and less barbarous, indeed, than many Europeans, who are clothed from head to foot. He was very much delighted with an Arabic song; I could see it by his face; now he comes nearer with more confidence, claps his hands, and shouts “Abàt,” or bravo! He wanted to learn it, and caught the tune rightly; but they laughed at him, and he became quiet again. Selim Capitan and I tried to imitate the idiom of his language; he thought he really understood something every now and then, and wanted even to correct us.

I saw, the day before yesterday, and previously, some tobacco plantations close by every tokul. I looked for this plant in vain to day at the two villages; perhaps it was already gathered. At nine o’clock, on the right, the village of Angort, or rather Awargot; which, as usual, was divided into a male (or herdsmen’s) and female village. Ten o’clock to the south; before the left shore an island,—course three miles and a half. At eleven o’clock S.S.W., we approach Arnaud’s vessel; he is on the point of furling sails, notwithstanding the favourable east wind. Selim Capitan habitually of a somewhat timorous nature, inquired of him whether he wishes to anchor here; without understanding his answer, he was also about to follow his example and halt, when I asked him whether he was commander or not. We sail on, therefore, and Arnaud is obliged, nolens volens, to follow. A little after midnight we cast anchor near the village of Aujan, and stood to the South.

7th January.—In the morning we landed on the left shore, where the great sheikh of the Bunduriàl nation presented himself as an old friend, being already known by the preceding expedition. He was of colossal figure, above six feet high, had a handsome aquiline nose, and a truly expressive physiognomy: about thirty years of age; naked, according to the custom of his ancestors. He was only distinguished from the others by wearing unusually large ivory rings on the upper part of the arm. His name is Biur. A red shirt and coral beads having been presented to him, he went away to procure meat, and to send messengers up the river to prepare a favourable reception for us. Behind this village of Aujan a large lake extends from N.N.W. to S.W., and a serpentine canal, some thirty feet in width, before the village, pours into it. Several people were moving on this long lake to catch fish: their implements were fish-baskets, of a whole, or half form, or mere wicker-baskets, which they dipped into the lake and quickly drew up again.

To judge from the ground inclining gently, as if in a flat dish, and from those trees, forming the arch from N.N.W. to S.W., being the forerunners of a thicker Haba, a very large lake must be filled here at high water. The greatest part of the water is afterwards let off, for the sake of fishing, through the before-named canal. An immeasurable quantity of water, generally, is collected in the low lands, according to all the appearances which I myself have found of such ponds in my short excursions into the neighbourhood. These always exercise a lasting effect on the lower height of the water of the White Stream, by their nearly simultaneous draining off, whilst they contribute mostly during the inundation to the sudden swelling of the White Stream by their connection with it. The tokuls of this village, which is called Auan or Auwan, are not badly built, but have low walls; the point of the roof also is not high. The lower wall, being of reeds, and plastered with Nile slime, is only three and a half or four feet high. The door is square here instead of the usual oval form; it is constructed of reeds, and before it are two stakes fixed in the ground, supporting a cross stake. Almost all the tokuls have a little porch before this door, which is covered by the roof being extended over it. The outer door is therefore lower than the inner one, and the inmates are compelled to crawl into the house. Generally, on the White Nile, it is necessary to stoop very much to enter the tokuls. The roof is indented according to the length of the straw bound up in hoops, and to the height of the roof itself; it has from five to eight separations. The point of the roof is covered, as I before remarked, by a gourd-shell, opening at the top and bottom, and forms a broad ring, in which the slender beams join.

Part of the people sat or stood there; only a few collected round our vessels. Many of them carried a long reed, instead of the spear, in their hands. They would not allow themselves to be measured, and continued to avoid me. I gave my servants three reeds of six, six and a half, and seven feet long, to stand near the natives, and by this means I ascertained their height. The average amounted to from six to seven Rhenish feet.[8] We ourselves were like pigmies among these giants. I might stretch myself to the utmost, but I could not come up to these men, though of the considerable height of five feet, two inches, four lines. The village numbers only twenty-eight to thirty tokuls, and lies along the shore to S.S.E. We sail away at eight o’clock, and in five minutes find a herdsmen’s village on our right side, and immediately afterwards another, near which the river winds to E., and we advance with libàhn. It is a large pastoral village, and appears to belong, with the preceding ones, to Aujan. The few tokuls of Aujan must serve the herdsmen, in the rainy season, as a place of refuge, for they lie tolerably high.

This morning, early, there were clouds in the sky, as is now generally the case; but still it is very warm, and we had, shortly before sunrise, 22° Reaumur. When I consider the endless labyrinths of the White Stream, and the eternal slackening of the winds, I fear that we shall never arrive at the sources of the White Nile. The stream is, as it were, without a border in the rainy season, and towing then is an impossibility, even if the south winds connected with it should not be violently against us. Yet I cannot resist the thought that it is not only possible to discover the sources, but also to scale the mountains lying to the south, of which all these tribes speak, and to pass over in some other stream territory to the Western Ocean. These thoughts occupy my mind when I sit at night before the cabin, and indulge in the reflection of such a bold undertaking, and one that would not be depreciated by the scientific world. My men are enraptured at such a proposal; but dare I confide in their courage? Yes, for if I did not, I should have turned them off long ago.

We remarked a group of trees at a long village situated on the left side of the river, containing sixty-five to seventy tokuls; and near it we go further east, the Haba before us, receding in S.S.W. I look at the village closer, and find that the very diminutive huts near the large tokuls, are not, as our men thought, for the children, but for the young cattle, and that this village has many straw or reed huts behind it for the pastoral men. Every thing is burnt down at our right hand, and only on the left is the border of the Nile still festooned by reeds and creepers; it is here not above three feet high. The enormous plain, in which is distinguished, from the mast, three lakes at the last point of the Haba to S.S.W., stood, therefore, entirely under water, although we perceive now numerous cattle and a large summer village in the centre. On the left also we see, from the mast, a lake and a village, about half an hour from the right shore. The large half-moon on the right has still green spots on every side, defying the fire with their pools. The land (if I may use this expression to distinguish it from the plain subject to the inundation, the secondary shores of which have become secure by the stream having fallen very much) is about three hours’ distant. The before-mentioned group of trees stands isolated behind the left shore; the latter is somewhat elevated; yet the old shore, said to approach before us again, recedes far into the above-named higher tract of land.

Ten o’clock. We have mastered the bend to S.W. by W., and sail now with north wind to S. A sand-bank forms the point of this bend. Yesterday afternoon, and previously, it occurred to me that here also the right side of the river, in an easterly direction, is nearly always marked by higher shores; but to-day this was very apparent, for the difference amounts to four feet. This is more evident because the reeds and grass are burnt away. Behind the above-mentioned group of trees, near which we perceive a number of overgrown ant-hills, I saw again the blue trees of the right shore, like the friendly appearance of old acquaintances. For a long time nothing has emerged on that side except from the elevated point of view on the mast. It depends upon the changeable humour of the river whether they come nearer to us or not. Between the dark blue margin of this wood we perceive a long glimmering water-tract. Some ten minutes’ later to S.E., at our right hand, a herdsmen’s village. Again, on the right, round to the S., up to W. In the interior of the country three villages, an hour long; but at a distance between the Haba, which appears to be very thick and woody, water is still visible, possibly in connection with the lake. This is at half-past ten o’clock; four miles. At eleven o’clock S.E.; on the right a pastoral village, on the left another. The north wind has veered, and we go, about twelve o’clock, libàhn, in E.S.E. The wind changes about two o’clock to our advantage: we sail from E.S.E. to S. and W.S.W.

At three o’clock we halt in S.E. by S. At half-past three o’clock we go S.S.E. A tokul city of one hundred and five dwellings is on the left, upon an island of two hours and a half long, commencing already when we were in S. On the left shore a lake about three hours long extends to the distant Haba, connected with the river by a narrow canal. Somewhat more behind we see two more lakes, and at a little distance on the right another city. On the left shore and the lake some tokuls, with flat arched roofs and round doors. E. and E. by S., towards S.E., is a village of thirty tokuls, some paces from the shore, by it a lake, and behind this the other lake, which I stated to be a water-tract, still continues.

We go quickly, with four miles’ course in S.W. by W., but also round a corner to E. We halt at half past five o’clock to N.N.E., where, on the right, there is a lake with a village. The before-named lake, of about three hours long, on the left shore, extends still far with the river, like a deserted bed of the stream, as we saw by the green strips, and the numbers of white and light coloured birds, that had encamped on its margin. If we consider somewhat more accurately, as I have already remarked, the main direction of these lakes, so far as the prospect from the vessel allows, we find that they always form chords, diameters, and tangents of the elliptical and circular windings of the present stream. On the right and left, a number of elephants are quite close to the shore, without being disturbed by us, and even the many light-brown antelopes remain quietly standing, and gaze at us. They are of the ariel species, of which also there are many in Taka; their flesh is very savoury.

We have done with sailing, and take refuge again in towing. The above-named intersections of the curves formed by the river are seen plainly on both sides. I had already thought that Suliman Kashef could not withstand the sight of the ariels. We stop on the right, at the shore just where the river winds from N.E. to N. The extreme edge of the shore is broken off precipitately to a height of five feet, as also on the right side of the river. The antelopes retreated as soon as the noise of the vessels reached the shore. The reeds are by no means to be trusted, because large beasts of prey are in the habit of taking up their position there, in order to rush upon the antelopes as their certain prize, when the deer go to water at sunset. A few soldiers, therefore, were sent forward for our protection.

On our return from the chase, during which not a shot was fired, we lost two bàltashi (carpenters or sappers) in the reeds, without our being able to recall them, though signal-shots were fired. They were Egyptians, steady men, and therefore we could not at all suppose that they had deserted. Notwithstanding this, the crew only looked for these men in the neighbourhood, shrugged their shoulders, and supposed that the assad or nimr (lion or tiger) had eaten them. The word nimr cannot, properly speaking, mean tiger here, for there are no tigers, as is well known, in Africa; but it is the general expression for panthers and leopards, as fagged for the lynx. At eight o’clock we sail on again to S.E., and make four miles. The river is here again about 400 paces broad. At nine o’clock, when we go S., we leave a small island at our left; the wind slackens in half an hour, but brings us S. by E. to a village, near which we cast anchor in the middle of the river.

8th January.—The vessels stand S.E., and this is the first time, for a considerable period, that one direction has held on so long. Long before sun-rise, the natives sing in honour of us their “Teabing.” The village only consists of some forty sleeping-places; each one holds several men, but the herds of cattle tethered there are exceeding numerous. The natives drive oxen near us, and are in such haste to bring them to the vessels that we can scarcely keep them off; they remain standing with the beasts, quite out of humour, point to them, and make supplicating gestures that we would condescend to receive the offerings. We have, however, become proud, for our Saturnian stomachs have had, at last, enough meat. The natives are of unusual size, and the troop standing above the pastoral village near the bee-hives, overtop their habitations by a foot.

The north-east wind is too faint; therefore again the cry is “Churr el libàhn.” From the mast:—back on the right, towards W., a large lake and a village; another at the side towards S.W., of half an hour in length, with a herdsman’s village. Behind this the Haba draws round in a bend. The wood is about one hour and a half distant, beyond the right side of the shore; but no lake is to be seen there, because there are not any angles cut off at this side. So likewise Fadl does not see a village, although yonder is the country of the Bohrs, who are said to dwell more inland; at all events, there must be water there. My Sale Mohammed, who, being my cook, wanted to procure me some roasted venison, has, against my will, gone too far from the shore, and not observed that we have changed the towing-path, and gone to the left shore. I am very angry with him, for one so easily gets in a passion in these countries. On calmer reflection, I see that I ought to have more care for his life, and that he who ventures his life for me does not deserve blows.

Eight o’clock, S.W. by S. We halt at nine o’clock, S.S.E. on the left shore, in order to wait for ivory. I sent Suliman Kashef’s sürtuk to the other side, to fetch Sale at this opportunity. The hygrometer 54°. A number of people are collecting around, and ready to give us all that they possess. The men, though only seven feet high, look like trees, in their rough and naked natural forms. Their tonsure is various; large ivory rings adorn the upper part of their arms. They would like to strip these off, but they sit too tightly, because they were placed on the arm before it was thoroughly formed. Now the flesh protrudes above and below the rings. A large man, appearing to be a little crased, or, perhaps, chief jester, wears an iron ring with flat bells on his left foot, and carries an unusually long spear, the shaft of which, being of a spiral form, is surrounded from the top to the bottom with narrow iron hoops. It must be interesting to understand his witticisms, for the others listened to him very attentively, and are extraordinarily delighted. He prefers his protecting spear to my beads; and it almost seems to me that these great children laugh at his philosophy as being stupidity.

The few spears we see here are of very different kinds; therefore, either imported or captured, in their contests, in the mutual hurling of spears. The greatest number, however, are pikes, tapering to a conical point. I only see the latter in the hands of the less skilful negroes. They seat themselves on the shore, sing, and beg for beads, pointing with their forefinger and thumb to the roundness of them. They have bad teeth, almost without exception; from this circumstance, perhaps, that they chew and smoke tobacco, partly to alleviate the eternal tooth-ache. If they did not complain of tooth-ache, yet they shewed us the entire want or decay of their teeth, when we gave them biscuit to masticate. Their chief or sheikh had, like the great sheikh of the Bunduriàls, an aquiline nose, and nobler features than the others: this I have remarked generally. The black colour alone induces us to suppose that they are of the negro race; though their features are generally not of that cast. Most Europeans, if they were painted as black, would be like them.

In observing the difference of these negroes among themselves, of whom the question can hardly be of a higher or lower grade of civilisation, and the features by that means distinctly impressed, we are involuntarily led to the idea that the families of these chiefs were either immigrating and conquering races, or the remains of the aborigines; and that, having diminished to solitary families, they have preserved among themselves their peculiar type, which is similar to that of the Caucasian race.

In a shooting excursion, I found it here also confirmed that the surface of the earth is lower behind the shores than the shore itself. This is especially seen by the vessels, which disappear even to half the mast at a little distance behind the shore. Nevertheless the ground was elevated again in the distance like the rim of a basin, whereon we remarked trees, evidently denoting an earlier shore. Water stood here and there, around which numerous marsh-birds had collected. I could not, however, get within shot of them, owing to the swampy nature of the soil.

Shortly before noon we continued our voyage with the rope, but the strong south-east wind worked so much against us that we advanced little or nothing. Besides, the crew do not seem to wish to run in perspiration and scalding heat, for to-day is Friday, and therefore the Turkish Sunday.

At twelve o’clock, a large herdsmen’s village on the right shore, with black giants, to whom the ant-hills serve as watch-towers, and where they look even taller, being contrasted with the horizon. This is the nation of the Bohrs. Here and there are seen men waiting on the shore, holding cattle by a rope, to sell them for beads.

The ox is said to be sacred amongst them. They may perhaps love and prize their cattle, to which they have but little else preferable, and may prefer the bull as the founder of the family, but that is all. After half an hour, where the river winds from S.E. to E. and N.E., is on the right a pastoral village. The nation of the Banduriàls stands here collected with a present of cows, but it was not accepted by us. From N.E. round a sand corner on the right, to S.S.W.

Here the meat-eaters, who will not be contented till they catch some disorder, cannot resist the temptation to receive some cattle. As in some parts of Belled Sudàn, copper wire is used for the decoration of spears, I had brought some with me rolled on a stick, and here and there cut off into rings. I exchanged such a ring for a red club, not made of ebony, but of some other heavy wood. The black stuck the ring immediately on his finger, half covering it; and Thibaut had no sooner remarked this wire ring, than he tried to procure it from the black by exchanging any number of beads for it, whilst my servants stood by and laughed not a little. He shewed it afterwards on his own finger, and thought that it was gold, and that we should now gain endless treasures for our beads, because the people, fortunately for us, did not know the value. I did not wish to disturb his innocent wishes, and was silent till the ring changed colour, when it afforded us a subject for laughter. There was but little to purchase from the people, because they, with few exceptions, brought long reed-stalks in their hands, instead of any weapons, as a sign of their friendly intentions, according to the orders of their king, Biur, who had done so at our request. A pretty young woman, with tolerably long hair, stood at a little distance, holding a spear in her hand.

At two o’clock we leave the sand-bank; immediately numberless birds settled there, and collected themselves for a banquet on the remains of the slaughtered beasts. We sailed S.S.W., a short tract, and then round the left to S.E.; here we saw, at half-past two o’clock, towards E., a large pastoral city, and people, and dogs,—the latter in unusually large numbers. From the mast:—on the right, to S.W., a lake; likewise one over the village to S.S.E.; and beside this village, five others up to the Haba: on the right shore, neither the one nor the other. The thermometer 29° at three o’clock. The above-named village of herdsmen, whose huts, like flat bee-hives, consist of reeds and straw, is followed by the huts of the women, built with a little more care, and also higher, having a square entrance, and on the top another thick irregular layer of reeds, so as to make the bent stalks of reeds heavier, and to keep off the rain.

The river goes from here E.N.E. For some days past, glass beads have been exchanged for ivory. I also, for the first time in my life, am now turning to mercantile speculations, and pleasing myself with the idea of the astonishment I shall cause to my brother. Five o’clock, E.N.E.; the north wind is good; five miles, whilst we only made three shortly after our setting out. At sun-set S.E. by E.; a smell of fire, and the smoke of a village, on the right side, came to meet us. We are soon convinced, to our horror, that the reed-straw near us is in full blaze, and it is fortunate that the river here does not make any curves, or we might be directly exposed to the flames. On the right is a large village, with peculiar tokuls, enveloped in black clouds of smoke, over which the sun dips as if into a dark sea of blood.

If we consider how such a reed conflagration extends with incredible swiftness in a violent wind, we shall see that the fire is not alone to be viewed as a purifying element of the marshy region, but also as the greatest means of destruction of the numerous forms of reptiles, and indescribable numbers of insects prevalent here. I have already convinced myself of this by the remains of consumed snakes. The river winds at the corner occupied by the long village, to S.W.

Two calves swam in the water, not being able to scramble up the precipitous shore again. The men had no sooner asked me whether they should take them, than I, as the momentary wokil of Feïzulla Capitan, gave them permission, in order to return them at a subsequent period when we came again to the natives; for there was so much meat on board, that it disgusted even part of the crew. The reïs tried with all his might to throw overboard the beasts just saved, because they were not to be slaughtered, and he wanted to have the hides; this, however, I very soon managed to prevent.

Seven o’clock.—The wind had slackened after sunrise, and the sailors now sang at the rope; women and cows hallooed and lowed in opposition. I had forgotten to observe the thermometer, whilst we were passing by the burning reeds; but now, after seven o’clock, when we have the fire behind us, it shews 28° Reaumur. By reason of the great danger, we try to get out of the reeds; the men at the rope are in a very difficult position when darkness sets in, for they wound their feet on the reed-stubble. On the left are two gohrs for catching fish, near another small lake. A little village lies on the top of the third island, with nine summer tokuls. On the right shore extends the long tokul village, and opposite to it twinkles a gohr, near a village. Behind us, the reeds burn in full blaze, to an immeasurable distance. From the mast:—from W.S.W. to N.W., a marsh, with isolated ponds, stretching far and wide; on the left, to S.E., a vast lake, the edge of which vanishes with the horizon. It is already too dark, and we halt, after eight o’clock, in the neighbourhood of a herdsmen’s village on the left shore, where the river winds from E.S.E. to E.

Suliman Kashef sends for me, because he is going to give a great fantasie, or feast to the sailors, as a reward for their strenuous labours in bringing us out of the reach of the fire.

9th January.—The thermometer, which yesterday evening remained at 28°, stood this morning, shortly before sunrise, at 16°. Our vessel dragged her anchor to-night, owing to a heavy squall of wind. Then arose again the usual noise, about which the captain troubled himself but little. I had felt a shock of the vessel, but did not think that it would be attended by any consequences; but as the hippopotami had already run against the vessels sometimes with such violence that they leaked, I paid some attention to what was going on. By way of precaution, the planks before the cabin were taken away, that we might be able to see when the water ascended into the lower hold. A gaffir (sentinel) had been placed there, but I had known for a long time how these night posts fulfilled their duty. I looked down, therefore, a short time afterwards into the hold, and saw that it was already full of water.

The sentry gaped prodigiously when I woke him up by a vigorous blow. The powder-room under our cabin stood open, so that the gaffir might observe the better; therefore I could not be too quick in ordering water to be poured on the fire, which was burning furiously on the hearth, and which some one had kept up from fancy,—perhaps the sentinel himself, to light his pipe. Then I awoke the rest of the crew, for Feïzulla Capitan lay like a log, because when the habùb set in, he had fortified his courage too much with the araki brewed by himself.

Immediately after sunrise, when the water was got out, we were towed to the left shore E., and immediately N.E. by E. From the mast:—on the left, to the N., lies a village near a small lake; on the right two villages in the plain before the Haba. The wood is an hour distant, but not of the same thickness as those of yesterday and the day before, on the left shore. We go S.S.W., where, on the left, is a village in a short bend in S.E. The whole horizon before us is covered with horned cattle shining from afar. My servants have purchased, on land, several skins of wild beasts, worn by the natives around their shoulders. Seven o’clock: seventeen to twenty genuine tokuls, and behind, a pastoral village, with the usual appearance. The men sing to our sailors, who are towing, but yet they remain on the large hills of ashes; the women sing “Abandejok,” jump, and recite besides God knows what other pretty things. Their village lies about eight feet high, and it does not seem that the high water reaches there, for we do not perceive any repairs to the lower clay walls of the tokuls. The surface of the earth behind the sand-shores is low ground. Half-past seven o’clock. From S.E. with a short bend io S.S.W.

A number of Bohrs are standing upon the point of land formed by a gohr to E.; they complain to us that the Elliàbs dwelling on the other side of the gohr have stolen their cows. We are no priests of justice, and continue our course. This gohr appears, therefore, to form the boundary between the Bohrs and Elliàbs. I was surprised that the former tribe did not dare to cross over the canal, which is about thirty paces broad, and probably connected with a great lake, as the choked-up dams prove, and claim their property manu forti. Their whole system of warfare may possibly consist only in such coups-de-main, from which, for the moment, eventual brawls may arise. It does not appear to me probable that a whole nation arms and takes the field against the other, for this would be a war of annihilation, which cannot take place, as the numerous population shews.

Eight o’clock. From S.E. to S.S.E. with sails; for the north wind freshens. Whilst I am writing this, the wind suddenly blows from S.E., and we are glad to halt at the left shore, where the sand is heaped up more than ten feet high. We go on by the rope. A storm comes from the south-east wind, but shews itself, however, as a mere blast of wind (habùb). At half-past eight o’clock we sail a short tract to S., but then again libàhn to S.E., on the right shore. Ten o’clock. An innumerable quantity of cows in the low ground on the right side of the shore, where there are more pools and a pastoral village. Again were oxen dragged to us.

We notice a large encampment of herdsmen, somewhat up the country, in the river behind the little pastoral village: I call it an encampment because there are no huts there, but sheds, as a protection against the sun, lying flat upon four stakes, the walls being partly protected by reeds. These straw huts, with flat roofs, which I had seen also besides in the pastoral villages, and which serve in the whole country of Sudàn, during the hot season of the year, for household labours, are called by the Arabs Rekùba. Even the open porches of the clay-houses are so called. Besides these, the reed-walls, protecting the very large fires of the encampment against the wind, stand far and wide around, and glistening herds of cows pasture there on all sides. The abundance of herds might give, indeed, some scale by which we could judge of the population, as I see from the rearing of the beasts that a certain number of hands are necessary. Still S.E., and behind the high reeds of the river another little pastoral village, near which we go to S. Eleven o’clock. On the right a tokul city at the point where we go S.W. Seventy to eighty houses stand along the shore, and we perceive, in a straight line, an arm of the Nile, separating a level island from a large pool. Immediately behind the city a pastoral village extends here and there, with that arm, towards the south.

There are many people on the shore, singing their “Abandejok:” the old women are particularly distinguished in this welcoming. We heard, horribile dictu, the clattering noise they make by striking their hanging breasts up and down; remaining with closed knees on one spot, they jumped or sprang up, swinging backwards and forwards their elbows and hands in a horizontal direction, and, bringing both hands before them, greeted us, or begged for something. The younger ones stood at a distance, and looked at the play,—kept back, indeed, more by the men than by their own bashfulness. The men swam over the arm of the river, in order to accompany us still further along the shore, or rather to catch a few beads. Opposite this hamlet are some tokuls, with a large pastoral village. We navigate S.S.W., and half past eleven o’clock S.E.

On the right a gohr discloses itself here, towards the south; two brooks flow now into its shores, close to one another; they join at high water like an arm of the river,—not deep, indeed, but yet as broad as the river we traverse. Opposite to its mouth is what seems a village, the huts in which appear to consist of sheaves of reeds joined together. On closer inspection, I see that it is not a village, but green reeds cut down and placed together to dry, to be used for building materials. We remark that the gohr goes subsequently to S.W., and see towards the west a pastoral village, connected with the tokul city. The extreme margin of the right shore is seven feet, and of the left three feet; the shores themselves ascend up to ten and twelve feet in height. On all sides, as far as the eye can reach, water tracts glisten in the low grounds.

Twelve o’clock. We halt till two o’clock, at an island of the left shore, and go then by the rope in a bend from the above S.E. direction, in half an hour’s time to N. by E. Here we work round a low sand-bank, which projects itself sharply into the river. Fadl told me from the mast, before we came to this corner:—Towards S.S.W., the gohr near the tokuls goes to S.W. Two large lakes are there, and a village, about an hour distant; the wood retreats two hours’ distance. To the left of the right shore also a large lake, half an hour distant, and the trees there indicate marsh land within three hours’ distance.

At half-past three o’clock we have fortunately navigated round from N.E. to S.E. On the right we notice, towards S.W., two large lakes, the first of which, being far off, shews only some tops of trees as its western shore. We have likewise, on the right shore, a considerable lake, at half an hour’s distance from us, at our side. The surface of the earth consists of humus mixed with sand, and frequently displays a reddish tinge, which makes us infer that there is iron-ore there. The natives sang yesterday evening, while they walked along by the side of our men, who were towing, in concert with them, repeating the eternal refrain, “Ja Mohammed;” to-day, also, I saw them at the village where we remarked the great gohr, assisting in towing, with songs and laughter. Although they are not able to converse with our wags, yet they immediately recognised the Abu Hashis, when on shore, as such, and joked with them; yet they were often frightened when the latter assumed a grim countenance and advanced towards them. The population appears to be very large, for it is not confined to the border of the river, but extends up the country, as far as the ground collects the water of the tropical rains; and the truth of this is verified, not only by ocular evidence, but also by the statements of the natives found on the border. But who numbers these dark children of the sun?

Five o’clock. S.W. by S. The river flows from hence on the left in a bend to W., and has a breadth of five hundred paces. At sunset, or six o’clock,—for I also set my watch, according to the Turkish and Arabic manner, at this hour,—we halt E. by S., under the corner where the river winds round to the right. There is here, on the right, a pool in distant sunken land, which must form, at the time of the inundation, a vast level lake. Two villages to S.S.W., one behind the other, and large herds of cattle in their neighbourhood. Up the country, on the left, the nearest village is only to be seen from the mast, and what we perceive to N.E. and N.N.E., is said to be a large drove of cows. I took a walk to this village: it lies on a gohr, and is called Aderègh. To judge from the foot-prints of elephants, it must all have been inundated. As fair winds had set in, we soon returned on board, and advanced at the rate of three miles an hour during two hours, to S. and S.W., and cast anchor in S.E., where the river becomes considerably broader.

CHAPTER XI.

NARROW ESCAPE FROM CROCODILES. — ILLNESS OF THE AUTHOR. — DESCRIPTION OF THE ELEPHANT-TREE. — CUSTOM OF MAKING BEDS ON ASHES VERY ANCIENT. — SULIMAN KASHEF SHOOTS A CROCODILE. — STRONG SMELL OF MUSK FROM THESE ANIMALS. — THE TRIBE OF THE ELLIÀBS. — WAR DANCES. — CHARGE AGAINST ARNAUD. — INJURY TO VESSELS BY HIPPOPOTAMI. — SULIMAN KASHEF’S CIRCASSIAN SLAVE. — CULTIVATED LAND. — THE FELATI. — APPEARANCE OF A MOUNTAIN. — TRIBE OF THE TSHISÈRRS. — STRATA OF THE SHORE. — RICINUS PLANTS. — FOUR LOWER INCISORS WANTING TO THE NATIVES ON THE SHORES OF THE WHITE NILE. — AGILITY AND STRENGTH OF THE NEGROES. — MORE MOUNTAINS APPEAR.

10th January.—Towed to S.E., and, looking back from the mast, two more villages are visible. On the right shore, a gohr of one hundred paces broad, projects inland towards N.E. A large village before us on the same side, surrounded with regular plantations of tobacco, cotton, creeping beans, and simsim; domestic fowls are also running about here. We halt soon afterwards at the right shore, where a village, considerable in length, extends from E. to E.S.E. along the shore. Two small tokul villages also on the left side. At half past eight o’clock we bear off again, and at nine we go S.S.E., having cultivated places at our side; and at ten o’clock towards S. On the right shore a gohr of thirty paces in breadth to N.E.; we also remark dome-palms again. Half past ten o’clock, S.E. by S. The forest, extending behind the doum-palms to within fifty and a hundred paces of the shore, appears also in the neighbourhood, and looks well covered and inviting to the chase. The broad river is so shallow here that we are obliged to stop in the centre of it, with our ships still heavily laden, whilst the men towing wade in the water; they often disappear altogether in the deep, when we come to these numerous shallows, and emerge again like ducks. There are many snakes in the water here; no one, however, was bitten by them. The crocodiles are again very frequently met with in the river, for they have deserted the pools and lakes.

11th January.—I have fortunately overcome a violent attack of illness which overtook me yesterday evening. Such a faintness seized me in my excursion yesterday, that I was obliged to sit down. I slept or lay in a swoon; I know not which. I awoke when it was already dark. A shot was fired near me; I tried to answer, but my gun flashed in the pan; for I had fired it off in a half unconscious state, to call for assistance. I dragged myself in the direction of the shot, and worked through the bushes to the shore, in order to walk more comfortably on the sand. At last I had the stream before me: on my left I saw the fires near the ships; but, by heavens! I was struck with terror, for there was the horrible sight of more than twenty crocodiles a few paces before me on the light sand. I had really commenced to count the beasts; but did not, however, remain long in bivio Herculis, for they began to move, scenting human flesh. I hastened back into the bushes, plunged into the holes hollowed out by water, which I had previously tried to avoid, and arrived without any accident close to the ships. I heard voices behind me, and recognised my servants, who were in search of me. They were mourning and reproaching themselves for having left me. Sale set up a loud howl, because he thought I was devoured by the crocodiles. They found me on the ground; they had also been pursued by the beasts. What a poor creature a sick man is! I hear now, for my consolation, that we had remained in the same place where we halted yesterday before noon, towards S.S.E., owing to the great exhaustion of the crew, and want of wood.

About eleven o’clock at night I began to rave, followed, from all external symptoms, by a kind of cholera morbus. This attack must have been dreadful, according to the description of Feïzulla Capitan, who bravely remained by my side, and shewed that he really has a heart, as I had seen already when he saved the Tokruri. Although exhausted, I now find myself tolerably well. We have a small reed-island at our side: the stream on the right and left is ornamented with a forest, assuming here quite a different character from the uniformity we have seen in the country of the Shilluks.

The earlier or spring mimosas were entirely obscured by other trees with dense foliage; the copsewood, also, has taken another form. The sun had not yet risen; but I could no longer contain myself, and therefore landed from the vessel. If I had, last night, given up the plan of travelling through Africa to the Atlantic Ocean, to-day I was seized with the old humour and desire when I saw this splendid woody region extending around me. Among the trees the shudder el fill (elephant-tree), or medengàn el fill, was distinguished above all the others. The beautiful clusters of flowers attain the length of from five to five feet and a half; they are similar to the yellow lily, but considerably larger, and somewhat curved on one side, like the nape-piece of a helmet. Forty or fifty of these lilies, shining magnificently, hang on one string; only half of them, however, are in flower, whilst the other half are budding. The fruit, similar in appearance to a thick grey-green cucumber, was already one foot and a half long, and half a foot thick. When cut open, it is very like the medengàn, called melinsanes in Greece, and cazzi greci in Trieste. The bark of the tree is light and smooth; the branches are a little twisted like those of the walnut-tree, to which it is akin in its digitate though darker leaves, and may perhaps surpass it in height. The elephant is said to be very fond of these medengàns, although they seem uneatable to all other creatures. Whether this be the Adansonia or monkey’s-bread-tree I venture not to decide. We shot down several of the fruits, being obliged to pierce through the upper part of the stalk, which is the thickness of a finger, with a bullet.

Eight o’clock.—We have felled wood, brought it on board, and continue our voyage by towing. The river soon forms an angle from S.S.E. to W.S.W. but it is only to go immediately again to S.S.E. As we remarked on the shore, the water now visibly falls. Selim Capitan and Arnaud cannot conceal their fear at having to surmount these obstacles, so as not to be devoured by the natives on our return voyage, which they would rather now commence. Such shallows are certainly disagreeable; but as they merely occupy certain tracts, it is only necessary, surely, to leave behind a portion of the freight on the other vessels, and to fetch them afterwards by degrees: this is evident, even to the commander. Sandbanks stretch from hence to the middle of the river. At nine o’clock to S.; on the left an island. The wood continues cheerfully on the right shore; on the left, however, it has disappeared. Half-past nine o’clock, S.S.W., and on the left a village.

The shores are strata of mixed humus, and the sand layer is quite clear. I remarked on the lower margin of a steep and broken shore a stratum of burnt reeds, and the intersection of a large hill of ashes, which proves clearly, like the tombs in the rocks of Silsili, in Egypt, that the stream here also sunk deeper formerly. The custom of making beds on the ashes is, therefore, very ancient, and the burning of the reeds is compelled by necessity. We halt near a village of about forty tokuls, and again wait for meat. There were only a few people to be seen, who stood, or squatted there quietly: at last they collected together, and formed a large column. Stretching up their hands in the air, holding a reed, or an ambak-tree, which is as light as a cork, though it looks like a fearful club, they made short quick marches up and down, and a sudden simultaneous facing about, in honour of us. The women ran behind this chorus, shouting and screaming as in Germany.

About eleven o’clock we set out to S.W. by S. A gohr cuts off an island equally narrow, overgrown with grass, at our left hand. At the head of the little island the river winds to S. On the right here is a pastoral village. At twelve o’clock, S.E. by E., and round the left by S.E. The north-east wind freshens a little, and we go without libàhn, if not quicker, yet more comfortably. A large semicircle is formed, and we go, at half-past twelve o’clock, from an easterly direction again to S.W. On the left shore, a troop of some twenty negroes squat, holding cows and calves for us by a cord. Beads are dear to them above everything. These blameless Ethiopians will not even receive gold and silver, the chimerical value of which they know not; and it is only stupidity that laughs at them in pity.

From the mast:—two pastoral villages behind the right shore; four more farther on, before the Haba, which forms a semicircle. The forest makes its appearance again before us, on both sides of the river. The latter separates into two arms, each having directly about two hundred paces in breadth; these form a little island, which we leave at our right side. The island is full of high sprouting plants and vegetables, between blooming shrubs. At one o’clock we arrive S.E. by E., and with E. to the point of the island. On the precipitous shores stand the different kinds of trees; among them the doum-palms, poison, and elephant-trees, are particularly distinguished, in picturesque confusion.

The left shore forms here at the corner, where the river winds S.W., a strip of sand, cutting into the river-bed, here only about one hundred and fifty paces broad, and on account of this we are obliged to sail close to the right shore. However, the river increased again immediately to S. W., up to three hundred paces in breadth. On the right also the Haba approaches, having but few trees, but before us it is well covered, and extends to the border of the stream itself. Five miserable tokuls stand under a large shady tree, which imparts a peculiar effect to the spot by its unusual masses of shade in this land of the sun. Some natives are sitting quietly under it, and seem to be fishermen. Two o’clock, S.S.E. We have the point of an island covered with reeds, in the middle of the river. Although I dread the mid-day sun after yesterday’s attack, which reminds me of a similar one in Taka, yet I venture upon deck, and see an island on the left. The arm embracing it has already shrunk to a large pool, and behind are the old or high shores, overlaid by sloping, grass-covered rubbish, as with a green mat. Where these shores formerly fell away steep into the water, they were twenty feet high, and were still raised in a similar angle towards the interior. The shores of the island are also about eight feet high, and I can easily calculate this, the shores being so close, for we have a plumb-line on board.

At three o’clock we advance close to the left shore, to let the men dine, for we have only laid aside the rope for a very short time, in consequence of the slack wind. The river becomes narrow at the corner, S.S.E., where it turns to the right. I also remark here again one of those gohrs, which, being from two to three feet high, conduct the high water, as canals, over the present water-mark, through the low country, because the river-bed is clearly too narrow—its shores being elevated here on both sides to two gradations—to carry away the whole mass of the White Stream, at the time of its inundation. We have also again the pleasing sight of the herds going to the river, over the ridge of sand, which must be considered at these high shores, as a road to the water. Eight white, well-fed calves, being the last, went away, to my astonishment, unmolested, our men not taking it into their heads to seize them. There is no leaving off at noon to dine, but one-half of the crew eats whilst the other tows the ship. About three o’clock we work away over the shallows, and at last the temptation cannot be resisted of taking some calves on board.

Four o’clock. We have the sand-banks behind us, to our good fortune, and we go S.S.W. The Haba close on the right shore, where we noticed six summer-houses and a gohr, eight feet above the water, is now separated from us about two hundred paces by a low country exposed to the inundations. The left old shore, with its generally scanty wood, has drawn close to the river itself, and is only ten to twelve feet high. Now, perhaps, the river will remain enclosed in the very narrow limits of the old shores, and not make these arbitrary serpentine windings, giving the result of a vast development of streams, but placing an incredible obstacle in the road to our pressing forward to the sources of the Nile themselves. We land at five o’clock, even before sun-set, on the left shore, for the men can go on no more, having laboured the whole day at the libàhn; the hoisted sails, therefore, are as good as useless, though they may have appeared very imposing to the natives.

A number of ash-grey people have collected near the village, and their chief is invested magnificently because he is to give ivory. From the elevated shore we see far in the low country, where the smoke appeared like a large lake. I was to suffer to-night for having exposed myself in the day, for a short time, to the heat of the sun. The sinking sun seemed to make my hair stand on end in a peculiar manner, and to set every single hair en rapport with its rays. I could scarcely return to the vessel.

12th January.—Happy those who have enjoyed a refreshing sleep to-night! I could not get any, and yet was so weary; fantastic forms plagued me the whole night; there is a restlessness in my nervous system, so that I get little comfort. Yet I brush up my strength, and write my journal; but I find it difficult, and cannot do much.

Before day-break, when some wind shewed itself, we set out, but again at sun-rise, the cry is “Libàhn.” S.S.E. At our left, the islands seen yesterday, the first of which is small, the second may be half an hour long. The wood stands on both sides upon the shore, which is twelve to fifteen feet high, in lively freshness and variety of colours. Mist is hovering about, and clouds prevent the sun from appearing.

Opposite to the large island is a gohr on the left shore, forty to fifty feet wide, apparently in connection with a lake behind the Haba. Half-past eight o’clock. S.W., but in a curve to S. I hear a shot before us, and they tell me that Suliman Kashef has killed, at one shot, a large crocodile on the sandy promontory of the right shore, so that it never moved from the spot after being struck. We tarry there till half-past nine o’clock, for Suliman Kashef presents the skin of the beast to Arnaud; but the latter scarcely retains the back-shield. As there is plenty of other meat, the men scorn to cut off its tail, and eat it according to the custom of the country. My servants, however, who knew that I had already tasted this sort of meat in Khartùm, as also in Taka, a snake, which a dervish had dressed himself, cut off a slice for me. Even had I not been ill, the smell of musk it exhaled, and which was not lost, though cooked with hay, was so repulsive to me, that they were obliged to throw it over board immediately. At first it appeared to me incredible that mariners should scent from afar the presence of a crocodile; but on my journey from Káhira to Sennaar, my own olfactories, when they offered me in Korusko a young one for sale, had become very sensitive to the odour of this beast.

At our entrance into the Blue Stream, I could smell the crocodiles, lying at a distance of six hundred paces off upon a sand-bank at the mouth of the White Stream, before I had seen them. The glands containing a secretion like musk, are situated in the hinder part, as in the civet-cats, (viverra civetta), domesticated in Bellet Sudàn, known here by the name of sabàt. These animals are kept in cages for the purpose of collecting the favourite perfume, called here musk or moschus.

Ten o’clock. S. by W. The river winds to the left; on the right an island with a village, separated by a narrow arm from the left side of the river. We sail with a good north-east wind, and make four miles. The poor negroes run as fast as they can to obtain a few beads, but in vain. On the left also an island.

Four o’clock. S.S.E. A short tract to S., and again to the left, S.E. We do not see the Haba of the left shore from the cabin; on the right it is divided from the river by a fore-shore. Soon afterwards, on the left shore, a village, with a solitary dhelleb-palm; the houses with a little pointed roof of straw, as in the tokuls; but the wall protruding in the centre, like a thick cask standing upright—another nation, therefore—that of the Elliàbs. At half-past eleven, again S.E.

15th January.—These are the days of trial; what avails good will, and a firm heart? I am still very weak, and cannot sit up. The negroes, since daybreak, have been singing their bold songs, and continue their war-dances, with quick or slow evolutions, in columns: their leaders are at their head, making threatening motions, wildly and freely, and inflaming the courage of their men by sudden broken chaunts, which the chorus then takes up. They clearly want to pay us respect by these manœuvres, for their rapid march is not directed against us; they do not appear to me to be the enemies we were informed of some days since, for they try with all their might to gain our friendship, and bring a number of cows to us.

I look at my journal, and thought I had been so ill since yesterday at noon that I was not able to continue it to the evening. To my most supreme astonishment, however, I hear from Feïzulla Capitan and my servants, that this yesterday dates from the 12th of January, and that they believed I was going to die. I remember very well, however, that I once saw Thibaut sitting on Feïzulla Capitan’s bed, and conjured him solemnly to send the doctor to bleed me. I sent out also my men to look, for one of them told me that Thibaut had not gone on board the doctor’s vessel, but on that of the Frenchmen. The doctor appeared, a perfectly black Shaigië, who had received the finishing stroke, as an accomplished alipta, under Clot Bey. Arnaud came immediately afterwards, to try on me his sleight of hand in phlebotomy. As I had got my brother to mark the point where to lance, so that I might do it myself in case of necessity, and had touched up the same with ink, every now and then, I allowed Arnaud more willingly to perform the operation, the black doctor having already worried me with his chattering. I trembled too much myself to undertake it with my own hand. I lay there at night, and a feeling came over me as if my whole body were pulsating, and I was myself moved up and down by the pulses. I did not dare to close my eyes, for fear of being tormented by those indescribable phantasies; I perceived only too well that Arnaud had not taken away sufficient blood. Willingly would I have had now a helping hand, but every one was asleep, and I could not call because I had lost my voice. I therefore undid the bandage, moved my arm vigorously about, and let the blood flow out of window; I felt I was much better, but was afraid of falling in a swoon and bleeding to death, when all at once a bright thought struck me: I took one of the large ivory rings lying near me, drew it over the hand, and so tight over the compress, which I had again put on, that they were obliged in the morning to cut it to pieces on my arm.

To my great consolation I heard that we had remained from twelve o’clock at noon in a south-easterly direction on the average, and at five o’clock had landed on a place where we remained till four o’clock yesterday evening, and then had come on as far as here, said to be only a short tract. Selim Capitan told me that we had only made on the 12th fifteen miles. The Frenchmen do not wish me to annoy myself about this gap in my diary, and promised me all possible éclaircissement from their own journals; but they found, however, subsequently, excuses to shuffle off, and I must therefore survey this tract more accurately on the return voyage. Suliman Kashef also had fallen sick in the very same hour I did, and was just as long delirious; on his account, therefore, the crew had kept quiet. I hear, to my astonishment, that Arnaud is accused of having tried to poison the Kashef and myself out of one and the same goblet, on the day before our simultaneous illness, because he himself had drank from another the last time we were with him. It was only with difficulty that I could persuade Suliman Kashef to divest himself of this unhappy idea; and it was by the following means I principally effected it:—I took precipitate powder from Arnaud, in water, before his face.

We go S.S.E., and after sun-rise S.E. On the left the head of an island discloses itself, if the gohr going to the N.E. is a Nile arm. Here also the people have collected, singing, and jumping backwards and forwards, in three files, as far as their strength will allow them, for they have not got a rag of clothes on their backs. A land promontory, jutting out from the right shore, brings us at last, after much labour, from S.E. to E. by N. A hippopotamus has just injured our doctor’s vessel so much that it would have sunk if it had not been aground on the sand. Yesterday evening also, when we were lying at anchor, a similar river-buffalo struck our large vessel with such force, that not being in the best condition, it made an uncomfortable motion, and roused immediately all our attention to examine the hold. We advance a little, and suddenly there is a cry that there is no water-course before us. I take this statement to be a knavish trick of the Reïs, whose duty it is to sound, and who pretend this in order to get back the sooner to their wives at Khartùm. I have expressed this opinion to Feïzulla Capitan, and begged of him to go to the two commanders.

I have good reason to fear that the invalid Suliman Kashef would rather be waited upon in his hàrim, at Kàrreri, than here by his Turks, although he has a young Circassian girl in the second cabin, who durst not leave the narrow space she is confined in, notwithstanding my intercession. The second time I was on board Suliman Kashef’s vessel, I was looking at his arrangements, just as the eunuch standing in the corner had gone out to fetch water; quite by accident, I opened the door of the second cabin, and saw there this pale, but beautiful girl, lying on the carpet, in a gauze chemise and trowsers. Suliman Kashef called out as if the devil possessed him, “Hàrim! Hàrim!” on which excusing myself, I naturally retreated, and he burst out into a loud laugh. Thus this poor creature sat in a cage, in which there was hardly room for her bed. The air entering but sparingly through the closed Venetian blinds, was obliged to suffice her day and night, for she was not even allowed to look out at the scenery.

There are several negroes on the right shore, who have a different language to that of the Elliàbs, and are called Tshièrrs. They sing and shout as much as they can, to induce us to receive their presents of cattle.

The shores in this region are not mixed with strata of sand in horizontal, but in undulatory layers, which may prove that a more violent influx into the reed-lakes took place here formerly, than in the present day. We navigate at four o’clock a short tract to E. and S.E., and immediately S.W. At sun-set, from S. to E. At the left a broad arm to N., perhaps having the main stream, for it shews here hardly any fall. We halt at the right shore, and take other natives from hence, for the purpose of acting as interpreters, instead of the former ones. From the mast is seen, on the left shore, two cities, and the great Haba, half an hour distant.

16th January.—I have passed a dreadful night, continually raving, and so far as I believe, I have not slept a minute. It was not till after sun-rise that we go with libàhn to E. by N.; an hour later S.E. Whilst I am counting seven villages on the left shore, along a dry gohr or Nile arm, I see on the right only one village. At half-past nine o’clock we sail S. by W. Ten o’clock.—The right shore is entirely covered with houses; thus the whole country presents, in a yet unseen extent, a cheerful cultivation of durra, simsim, tobacco, and lubiën (the phasels, or white beans, so frequently met with in the land of Sudàn). We see continually on the shores the ricinus and ushàr (asclepias procera), with luxuriant leaves, as well as the rigli, or purslane, which grows wild also in the gardens of Khartùm, and was our usual salad. At noon N.E., where a city on the right shore extended; then E., and subsequently S.E. Here I see, for the first time, the natives washing. Notwithstanding the proximity of the water, they make no regular custom of washing themselves, as is only too plainly seen by their bodies covered with ashes. They bring us large ivory tusks, as they did previously, and these were purchased in favour of government, for a few beads. Two o’clock.—On the right shore a large village, with a different sort of tokuls; and we go from N. by E. to S. It is unquestionable that there is an enormous population in this country of the Tshièrrs. The people have a friendly physiognomy, and the form of the face is more spherical than that of the other tribes.

17th January.—We halted yesterday evening close to a large city on the left shore, and remained there till eight o’clock this morning. This delay was caused by the natives constantly dragging down elephants’ tusks to us. The tokuls are like sheds, but barricaded round about with thick stakes, probably on account of the wild beasts. My European companions are very anxious about my health, and wish me not to write. They will lend a hand to me in every thing—very cunning of them! On the right and left villages. An island on the left shore, at least a gohr, enters into the land there; but where tarries the other gohr or Nile arm, that we saw four days ago? From E.S.E. to S.E. The north wind is better to-day than yesterday, when it set in, so desirable to me in my invalid state, and we make three miles. On the right shore a Haba, sometimes retreating a little, sometimes approaching. An innumerable crowd of negroes stood at the before-mentioned bend of the river, but we sail proudly by, without throwing out beads, and exciting the desire of such a mass of human beings for our glass riches. The people cultivate their fields, and are really better fed, but appear not to be equally particular about washing. The shores of the Nile are twelve to fifteen feet high, and there prevails a crumbling humus, easily rubbed to powder; always strongly, however, mixed with sand. These men, moreover, not only produce the fruits above alluded to, but also gàra and battigh (gourds and water-melons). Iron rings on the arms and feet seem to be regarded here with more respect than ivory rings. We leave two islands, of about two hours in length, at our side; they are also cultivated. As the country becomes more interesting, I feel myself happily a little better, and this may partly arise from the clearer air.

The natives say that the Felati, who wear clothing or rags (sharmuta), like our men, are only a few days’ journey from us to the west. I hear that these Felati, like the Tokruri, from Darfùr, being Muslims, make the pilgrimage to Mecca. It is certain that they do not take the road traversed by us, for nothing is known of them in Khartùm: it appears to me more likely that they join the pilgrim caravan of Burnu, and distribute themselves in the neighbourhood of the Nile, the better to beg their way through. Subsequently I became acquainted with a slave in Khartùm, who had come to the land of Sudàn, through Burnù. Felati means there dissolute roving men, such as these Tokruri, from the interior of Africa, generally are. It is thought that we shall meet with these Felati, and this is the more desired by me, because, as they partly speak Arabic, I could ask them questions myself, and should have no need of two or three interpreters, who translate in a careless manner one to the other.

Twelve o’clock. S.S.E. The stream is, as I predicted, more constant in its old limits, which have approached closer to us; we have generally a south-easterly direction. On the right also the wood is near, and I am curious to survey some of the beautiful green trees. The natives have brought us goats and sheep, but no cows; and do not seem to wish to give them. We have a small island on our left, and on the right the lower end of another, though we have not seen its commencement. Village connects itself to village, with broad low tokuls. We go from the south, where, on the left, through a simsim-field, separated from the river, stands a stately village, with reed palisadoes, to S.E. There ends the little island, and two other sandy ones immediately join on. Eight women are standing on the downs of the right shore before their village, and comfortably smoke their pipes. The isolated trees, with their beautiful branches and soft green foliage, have a very cheerful look. The simsim, cut-down, is regularly fixed together, like an arbour, in order to be dried. S.W., on the left, an island.

The shores are intersected with sandy strips. The larger tokul-roofs have an irregular form, with horns on the top, mistaken by the Turks for the crescent; they appear, however, to be the branches of the tree standing in the middle of the tokul. It is the gable of the house; and possibly we may look here for an adoration of animals bearing horns. On the right an island with beautiful foliage upon it; the channel is not broader than double the length of our vessel. To the left there is an island, and opposite it a mere deposit of an island, quite lively and verdant in the water; the river is again broader. On the right, and shortly afterwards on the left, two islands end, though we have not observed their lower part. Either they had not any water there, and were easily overlooked, or the stream branches so that we can scarcely form an idea of it. I look upon this portion of the White River, in regard to its uncommon mass of waters, with still greater respect, as a phenomenon difficult to be solved.

It is three o’clock. S. by W. Do I hear rightly?—they are speaking of Gebl—how that sound thrills to my heart! I call, but no one listens to me, for all are standing upon deck, and looking towards the mountain, which is said to be very large. In spite of the sun, and all remonstrances, I drag myself up on deck, and see the mountain to S.W., at a distance of about twenty hours. It seems to form an accumulation towards one point, and may surely be the forerunner of other mountains; therefore, after all, there are mountains of the moon. City crowds on city; and the Egyptians look out from the mast for herds of cattle, which are not, however, numerous. An innumerable population moves on the shores; to express their number our crew say, “Ketir, saie el tubàhn” (as many as flies); and we sail always, Allah Kerim, by the shore, which is quite black with people, who are standing as if benumbed with astonishment.

Four o’clock. From S.S.E. to S.S.W. The north-east wind good for four miles. It seems as if we were going to the chain of mountains, or, at least, coming nearer to it. Two days ago the natives whom we asked knew nothing of any mountain on the river. The river again becomes majestic at this bend, and gives us every favourable hope by its water-mark. On the right a small island, and another lies likewise planted in the middle of the river before us.

Five o’clock. S.W., and to S. An island on the left shore, where a gohr enters far into the land; then on the left a small island in our river, round which we proceed on the right, in order to come to the supposed gohr, which soon shews itself to be a main stream, flowing here S.E., and therefore not forming an island. Still there is an uncomfortable feeling at finding myself near the Equator in Central Africa, and being ill at the same time. Every man has his home, and this is frequently confined to such narrow limits that there is, properly speaking, only one favourite place in life. I was never a gourmand; but sauerkraut, now fresh from the tub—and I should be well on the spot.

At half-past five o’clock, from S.E. to S.S.W., and shortly afterwards S., and again S.S.W. I see strings of white beads, that may have been introduced by the Felati already mentioned; for the White Stream itself does not seem, up to this moment, to form any road of communication to the tribes who are ever at war with each other. From E.S.E. to S. by W., where we halt at sunset, and I go on shore. The Tshièrrs, possessing both shores here, are a very handsome race of men; tall, strongly built, and well fed. There is a good nature and courtesy in their behaviour, shewing, in itself, external cultivation. I can scarcely persuade myself that I am in the middle of Africa. The “stipes Æthiops,” as the Romans called it, always falls away the further we ascend the river. This type, indigenous particularly to the Dinkas, has not only entirely disappeared, but a nobler and more natural motion in the limbs has taken its place. Every one of these people wears a small wooden fife round his neck, having three tones. They say that the strings of glass beads they wear come from above (gèbeli, min fok), pointing up the river to the south. It almost seems as if there were a connection between these countries and the Atlantic Ocean. Although these people are armed with clubs, spears, bows, and poisoned arrows, yet there is something in the natural disposition of the human heart that prevents even our men from giving way to fear at a distance, but they take very good care not to offend the kind commoners of nature in any way.

18th January.—Another bad night. Even now, at Asser, I have not recovered. The Frenchmen, indeed, have paid me a visit, consoled me with empty words, but cast looks at one another, the meaning of which I so well understood that I assured them there was no danger; I should see my brother again, whom I just at this moment missed very much. We sail, on the whole, S.W., see six to seven islands, and approach nearer to the high mountain. This afternoon I saw, on the left, a little gohr, which discharges itself with a strong fall into the river: they tell me, from the mast, that a second one is lost again beyond the right shore. It appears, therefore, to be fed by our water-course, whilst the other is a subordinate arm of the Nile from above, or a tributary stream. Four o’clock. From N.N.W. to E. A large city at some distance from the left shore. An incredible number of people, who go here also quite naked, are dancing and singing on both shores: our course is really a constant triumphant march. The bears on the vessels will half kill themselves with laughing. We have likewise here that sharp piercing cry which we are so frequently compelled to hear in Lower Egypt, at marriages and other festivals of the kind. This “Kullelullullulu” is therefore, perhaps, of Ethiopian origin, and recalls involuntarily to our mind the descent of tribes from the Highlands. To the right of the city a small island follows, and a pretty wood extends over the margin of the river.

Half-past four o’clock. On the right and left an island; and notwithstanding the breadth of the river, we have still a good water-course, which has increased here in rapidity, a sure sign that we shall come at least to higher regions. The poison-tree is still abundant, and does not seem to be considered dangerous even by these people of free nature; we see it even standing close to their huts. It is not yet sun-set. There is singing, with dancing, and clapping of hands, even far into the water itself,—a truly black joy: the women with their sharp “kulle,” the men with their bass voices, the boys with their treble, and the barking of dogs between whiles, so that I can scarcely hold my pen, and know not where to fly to for peace. They drag calves behind them, and swim towards us, whereby the greatest part of the glass beads thrown to them fall into the water, and there is a monstrous noise and splashing in picking them up. I was sorry for the beautifully-formed young girls, who went away empty-handed in this crowding and wrestling of thousands. With the most amiable countenance they pointed to their necks, shewing that they had no beads there. They were all laughing and in good spirits, and shouted to us “Màdam!” said to be a title of honour.

19th January.—We navigate this morning with a gentle north-east wind to the south, and shortly afterwards have those grass-islands at our side that lay yesterday evening before us. Here the natives offer us every thing: weapons, certainly the dearest thing to them; arrows and bows, long spears, light javelins, and their ornaments, consisting mostly of iron rings! And all this for miserable Venetian conterie, which perhaps may serve for a long time as an article of commerce with the inhabitants of the interior of Africa. The sky lowers, and was yesterday also somewhat clouded. The river is here universally four hundred paces broad.

When I look on the soil, I find that it is either percolated with sand, and forms a perforated black mass, like the humus in Nubia, or that the layers, being still unchequered or unworked, are disposed in strata one over the other, sand over humus, and this over mixed earth, &c., but in thicker deposits than we are accustomed to see in other parts of the Nile. The undulating direction of these layers shews a stronger water-way, and a more vigorous forcing on and off of liquid soil. I am now not at all doubtful of a high land. Another shallow island joins on to the above-named green river meadow, over which the neighbouring wood peeps forth refreshingly, with a large village. The natives accompanying us are brought, by the partition of the shore, to a place from whence they cannot advance; they stand and stamp and dance, always upon one spot, some holding a spear, or bow and arrow, in their hands, some a long stick, and others without anything. They sing in alternate song, and raise at the same time one or both hands in the air, or stretch themselves towards us, and draw the arm back again.

Eight o’clock. From S., a short tract to S.E., and then E. and N.E. Isolated, strong, ricinus plants, are distinguished by their dark foliage from the other vegetation, which is beginning here also to wither. On the whole it is wonderfully verdant on all sides, to which perhaps the heavy dew may mostly contribute. The people here have better teeth, but the four lower incisors are wanting, according to the custom of the country.

Nine o’clock, S.S.E. On the right shore stands one of those beautifully foliated, large trees, which I have not yet seen close, but which appears to be a species of Robinia. A large company of blacks, smoking long pipes, have collected under this tree. The little boys are excessively merry, blowing in concert their fifes, jumping and greeting, the latter meant for our boys, whose look pleases them more than our bearded faces. The green Haba of the right shore accompanies us cheerfully; the long procession coming out of the wood, to look at the strangers, indicates a very numerous population. Who could believe that there was in Africa this aquatic abundance, this fresh verdure, and this moderate heat, the thermometer having been for some days not above twenty-five degrees? At noon from S.E. to S.W. The river winds, however, immediately again to S., in which direction we generally return in the afternoon. The stream is about six hundred paces broad, and has a depth of three to three fathoms and a half. Here must we journey on, as far as our old planks will allow us, in order to reach its sources with the wind, which is mostly slack. The shallow island we already saw this morning does not end till about two o’clock, and the arm embracing it is broad, and so deep that the negroes accompanying us on shore are obliged to swim. An island deposit lies at its head, and will soon perhaps be united to it. Immediately afterwards, on the left shore, a large summer or pastoral village; on the right and left, singing and jumping of men, women, and children. Our mountain, of a dark-blue colour, on the right, suddenly looked into my window, and surprised me not a little. We sail S.S.E., with two miles rapidity. On the left is a gohr to S.S.E., into which the people plunge with loud huzzaing, so that they may accompany us a little longer. No beads are given gratis; the poor people must run, make the Turks laugh first, and give them entertainment, before it is determined to throw on shore these glass bits of paste, though Selim Capitan possesses an enormous stock of them, and then this generosity is only for the sake of seeing the bustle and noise of the great children.

Three o’clock. On the left an island, and the other arm embracing it, divides immediately a whole troop of people, with their bullocks, from our road; but there are huts and blacks enough on the island itself. We go W., and the mountain lies S.W. of us, as it appears, in its entire longitudinal profile, although we could not distinguish clefts or precipices. The scarpe, on the southern side, ascends to a height nearly equal to one of the ridges, makes a concave vibration towards this, and falls gently to the west on a break, rising precipitously only a little above the horizon. We see even from here that it is a mountain of moderate size.

Four o’clock. The high mountain lies W.S.W. of us, and, to my joy, I hear from the mast that another mountain, far higher, rises behind it to S.W., with three peaks (Tshokka, fork, spike). It must therefore belong to a high land, as I have already hoped.

The women sing their “kulle,” and throw the upper part of their bodies from one side to the other. I saw also the men here shake their chests with such agility and force, as I had never witnessed in the dances of the Arabs. How inferior all our gymnastics are to the natural nimbleness, and lion and tiger-like flexibility of these freely developed limbs! I see one negro jump up from the ground against another, with a piercing cry; he turns himself round whilst flying in the air, and stands with a raised spear—I might say upon his toe, bent forward for the combat—but he is immediately again appeased by the other. This was a pirouette, worthy of the plastic skill and hand of an artist. In the space of an hour, two other mountains in the south, we ourselves going southerly, are announced to me. On the right and left villages continue, but we see only here and there the top of a tokul, because they do not stand on the extreme higher margin of the shore. Large herds of cows glisten forth from the Haba close at hand, and others are scrambling down to the river to drink. This wooded region, directly on the stream, the proximity of the mountains,—we shall see what beautiful and wonderful things yet the interior of Africa may contain; and I will endure every thing, because I feel strengthened and excited by the mountain air blowing down upon me.

There are some trees as green as beeches in May, and having the wide-spread branches of oaks. Immediately afterwards, a large village with flat tokuls: the right shore presents here, in truth, a charming sight. One tree, I remark, having some similarity to the linden in its foliage, spreading out its boughs like fans, in fantastical forms, and standing there oddly. On the right and left are several villages, and also an island on the right side of the river. On the left shore, a large tokul city, with a large and small island in the river before it. The tokuls have nearly a pointed roof, but appear to be carefully built. A number of people have accumulated there, and I hear the “kullelu” quite plainly, trilling, in the sharpest treble, the accent “Ih, ih, ih.”

We halt, in a southerly direction, at sun-set, in the middle of the river, not to be annoyed by the natives, and to avoid all provocation on the part of the crew. The country is still a real paradise, and the durra is putting forth its shoots, to give a second crop. It must not be supposed that the fields have a regular form; on the contrary, every thing looks as if it grew of its own accord, without sowing. The trees stand in such strength, as though they had no need of water; and the human beings shew, by their more noble appearance, that they enjoy a generous nourishment.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

London:
Printed by S. & J. Bentley and Henry Fley,
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.

FOOTNOTES:

[1]Renard the Fox. This refers to the celebrated old German satire on the intrigues practised at a weak court. It appeared at Lubeck in 1498, and nothing is known, with certainty, of its author. Goethe has admirably rendered a part of it into Hexameters.—Translator.

[2]Subsequently I was convinced, by reading over more carefully a letter which I had received from my brother (as a last remembrance, containing careful recipes for my health) just as I was embarking, that Ahmed Basha and Suliman Kashef had spoken the truth, and that the latter was really nominated chief of the expedition by the viceroy. This journal (kept by the renegade Rustum Effendi, a native of Navarino) had given greater satisfaction than Selim-Capitan’s numerous figures, &c. The Kashef confessed to me openly that he would now take his ease, and let the others do what they liked, for he was no maendes (engineer).

[3]A thaler is about 3s. English.

[4]Each degree of Réaumur is equal to 2⅑ of one of Fahrenheit. To change, therefore, Réaumur into Fahrenheit, multiply the given number of degrees of Réaumur by 9, and divide the product by 4, the quotient must be added to 32°, and the sum will be the equivalent sought.

[5]The miles, during this voyage, are English sea-miles, or knots. (Trans.)

[6]Sauerbraten.—The well known decoction of beef steeped in vinegar, which is served up at every table d’hôte in Germany.—Transl.

[7]A Parisian or French foot is equal to 1·066 English.

[8]A Rhenish foot is equal to 1·030 English. (Transl.)

Transcriber's note:

pg v_bis Changed: HUSSEÏN AA’S DRINKING to: AGA’S

pg 51 Changed: exept by Vaissière to: except

pg 78 Changed: Kabbalish Arabs to: Kabbabish

pg 88 Changed: Sahèbesha to: Schèbesha

pg 89 Changed: the left hore to: shore

pg 95 Changed: Philœ to: Philæ

pg 95 Changed: Wadi Shiler to: Shileï

pg 147 Changed: Andansonia digitata to Adansonia

pg 184 Changed: latitude yesterday was 80° to: 8°

pg 190 Changed: their countyman’s statement to: countryman’s

pg 209 Changed: latitude is 70° 48′ to: 7°

pg 213 Changed: severel deep foot-prints to: several

pg 221 Changed: HUSSEÏN AA’S DRINKING to: AGA’S

pg 234 Changed: neigbouring reeds to: neighbouring

pg 234 Changed: accord-to to: according to

pg 305 Changed: of unusal size to: unusual

pg 321 Changed: without any accdent to: accident

Minor changes in punctuation have been done silently.

Other spelling inconsistencies have been left unchanged.

New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.